indecisive stitches

Yet Another Update

2008-04-06T01:44:00.000-04:00

Hey hey hey...it’s been a while.

I thought it would be a good time to write a quick update of some sort. I had very good intentions on catching up with y’all last weekend but it simply did not happen. And for good reasons at that.

It looks like the bitter end of winter is finally here. The days seem sunnier and warmer. I would like to believe we are out of the blue where snow and cold is concerned. I’m keeping my fingers crossed because this winter seemed to drag on and on. The brightness and that certain smell of spring in the air is definitely improving my mood and those around me.

I’ll be honest. Winter was rough, especially from mid-February and on. I don’t care for airing too much dirty laundry via my blogs so I’ll keep it short and sweet - my anxiety was sky high. Sure, I was stressed in several areas of my life - work, health of myself and of others, and so on. I’ve always been the nervous kind but this bout of anxiety was far from fun. I don’t think it was ever this bad - it came to the point of affecting me physically. However, this time taught me something - it showed me that I do have the strength to get help. And I’m not saying that I’m weak and frail either. Bottom line is - I have anxiety and I want to learn how to control it so every day events shouldn’t be stressed over. I don’t ever want it to get to the point where it was at the end of February and early March. I don’t want to be shaky at the thought of leaving the house. I’m much more conscious of it though and I have talked it through with friends and professionals. I’m trying to get out and get a little more active (I tried Pilates tonight!). I’m trying to find the things that make me happy and challenge me. I’m trying to feel less isolated (which I’m beginning to think is part of the problem since moving to Quebec).

So, do you want the good recent news or the bad recent news? Let’s get the bad out of the way first.

Just when I thought my anxiety was on the mend and I was going back to work (I took a bit of a stress leave, if you will), my dog ended up getting in a really nasty fight with another dog last weekend (though the more I think of it, the more I think he was attacked first). Hence no blog update - I was busy mopping up eight bleeding wounds and trying to not cry my head off. Of course, last weekend was the weekend the boyfriend went out of town. Of course! That’s always when shit happens. Anyway, I don’t want to go into details.

My dog got bit about 8 times, very badly. I felt like it was my fault. I didn’t know what to do because I panicked but I tried my best. I couldn’t get him to see a vet immediately because he couldn’t walk that well and we leave on a second floor (refused to walk down the stairs). We couldn’t carry him. He didn’t want to eat or drink. We managed to get him antibiotics the day after, by the persistance of my friend’s mother. When the boyfriend finally got home, we got him (the dog, haha) to a vet. He had a fever, poor thing. They cleaned, drained, and flushed his wounds. We are continuing to clean/flush the wounds at home and give him peanut butter coated pills. After a day or so, there was such an improvement. The swelling is down and he is affectionate again, he has his appetite and he’s smiling at everything. He’s my silly, goofy dog again - back to his ol’ ways. I’m so grateful, so incredibly grateful. I thank my friends that kept me company on Saturday, my friend’s mom who bent over backwards to find help and talk me through my anxiety, and those who called to check in on me and to give me pep talks. We truly appreciate it. :) Toshio is happy and on the mend! Yippee!

And onto the good news....

I’m learning my first instrument. No, it’s not a piano. Le sigh. It’s still cool and awfully quirky! It’s a ukulele, which is a lot more affordable and easy to store than a piano. It’s a cool little instrument too - it’s a metal-bodied resonator ukulele. It has a very bright tone and it’s loud. I got it last night so I’ve been fooling around on it ever since. The boyfriend has been showing me a few things he knows, general music "stuff", and little lessons I can do. I strummed along with him (badly) to a simple song he was playing on the guitar. With the limited chords I am comfortable with right now, I can play the chorus to Aha’s Take on Me (which is not cool, but whatever) and I can also play along with Johnny Thunders’ Sad Vacation. As well, doing some fingerpicking exercises to that riff in Wipeout. Before you know it, I will be tip-toeing through the tulips. But seriously, I’ve discovered that it is a really underrated instrument. It’s actually really cool to play even though you have to hold it high up and the boobs get in the way.

Other than that, things are good. I’m feeling happier. My dog is happier and healthier. Spring is here and it’s causing me to have weird dreams that guest stars ex-boyfriends and Big Brother contestants. I have a brand new shiny ukulele and another week off work between projects. It hurts the bank account but I’m looking forward to warm days and good books and ukulele lessons and home-cooked meals. And maybe, just maybe, another go at Pilates.

Privacy Policy

2008-04-06T00:25:00.001-04:00

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Shopping Frenzy!

2008-02-17T11:21:00.003-05:00

It was recently my birthday and I treated myself to a beautiful cardigan. I found it online with much searching. It probably wasn't the greatest deal but I thought - I deserve it!

I came across a website that is much like Sephora but deals with many different shopping departments, if you will. It's ShopWiki! You can find everything from electronics to cosmetics. It is great for comparison shopping and finding product reviews. Maybe I'll find myself a Wii one day! You'll find low prices and good deals. What more can you ask for!?

New Year

2008-01-20T03:44:00.000-05:00

It's been a while since I've written - once again! It's already the middle of January. I have the place to myself this evening and I thought it would be a good chance to catch up on everything I have wanted to do - namely work on a new blog idea I have about conquering goals. Heh, all I conquered tonight, it seems, was the fine art of curling up on the couch and napping. Ah, I think I deserve it.

I've been okay, thanks for asking.

January has been a busy one so far, especially concerning work. And I don't know if it's for all the right reasons. Things, I must say, have been a bit confusing and chaotic as far as work goes. Not necessarily the work itself, just the people working there. I wish I could go into details but that wouldn't be fair or cool of me. Let's just say it's been a little too dramatic for my liking. I've tried to stay away from it and distance myself from it. Things have come to a head - not concerning me - and I hope that it will eventually smooth itself over. Basically, all I want is to go to work, do my job, and come home at the end of the night. I don't think it's too much to ask for. Due to this issue, work has been canceled for five days. And that sucks. Though I was scheduled for over fifty hours this week, my pay cheque is now cut short and it hurts. I have bills just like everyone else.

I have to admit, I did need this "me-time". This so-called issue has been draining and I have been putting in a lot of hours. It's been a little rough on me and my health.

Speaking of which, my health is alright. I've been dizzy since the middle of December - or since I started working a lot of overtime. I'm getting another series of blood tests come Tuesday so check my thyroid and anemia. As well, what I thought was an allergic reaction to something turned out to be a wicked case of acid reflux. Sexy, huh? I've discovered the triggers of it though. And it's all the tasty things - beer, wine, and - gasp, my favorite! - lemon tea.

I haven't had much of a social life since starting work again. My days off have been booked solid with appointments to see doctors and dentists and more doctors. I had coffee with Toly the other day, which was nice. I ran into him as I was coming out of the pharmacy near work. That's what I miss about Winnipeg. You can walk around the village or downtown and simply run into someone which eventually leads to going for coffee. I hope to see some friends soon. Timing has been bad - my days off don't corresponde with theirs, people have been sick, etc.

I had a very quiet New Year's Eve at home. We had my in-laws over for dinner. I cleaned up the place. My partner cooked a fantastic meal. That's that. No pressure and relaxed - just how I like my New Year's Eves to be.

Christmas was lovely. I went back home for the holidays from the 18th to the 28th, I believe. My flight was canceled for the 16th due to a massive snow storm, which was disappointing. I spent a lot of time at home, when I went home, and I didn't really mind. Maybe it was just winter or maybe it was being so run down from working so much. I just wanted to be at home with my parents and my cat, watching bad television (which is a treat since I rarely watch TV in Montreal) and laying low. I did have a few fun nights with friends but I only made it into Winnipeg a couple of times. A bunch of us saw Walk Hard in the theater, which was a treat. It's been years since I saw a movie in a theater (before that movie, the last one I saw in a theater was Kill Bill). I went for coffee. I stopped in at a few friends places for coffee or tea or eggnog paralizers (a tradition of ours, to see Tricia at Christmas and get our fill of eggnog paralizers!). A few of us hung out in the mall, laughing at people and being jerks. It was a fun trip, but a quiet one. Some of my plans fell apart though, which bummed me out. I didn't get to see Nicofelia. I didn't get to see the PostSecret exhibit at the WAG. I didn't get to see Rachel that much or Parris, for that matter. I suppose it's to be expected when I come out to visit at the most busiest time of the year and when my trip is cut short. Le sigh. It was nice to have so much time with family though. I played Scrabble with my mom. I played televised bingo with my dad. I saw my grandmother a lot. I got to play silly video games on Christmas eve with my sister and brother-in-law - I tried my hand at Guitar Hero (it's hard!) and played a round of American Idol on PS2. Good times. Lots of laughs. It was cool to see my brother-in-law. It seems like before this trip, I'd only see him for a good 45 minutes out of two weeks, ha ha.

I've been away from home for three years now. I always mentally prepare myself when I am about to fly back to Montreal. And I always end up having a semi-meltdown in my old bedroom. It is so hard to leave, still. I like my life in Montreal, especially since getting Toshio. I like my routine. I still miss home and I suppose that's normal. I miss being there for my family and for friends. You'd think by now I would be used to leaving but it still hurts. I put on my best face though. No one sees the semi-meltdown. Not only that, it's coming to terms that many of the friends I know - life has moved them in different directions. I don't have as much place in their lives, I'm not so much in-the-know now. I'm a little left out of the circle. Maybe I'm not as important. And I do understand that. It's normal to move on, go in different directions, have new circles of friends. My circle of friends is very small here in Montreal and I notice it gets smaller and smaller each time I go back home too. It's kind of a lonely feeling. Saying that, there are some friends that I see when I go back home and it's like I have been away for three days, let alone three years. We catch up and then we laugh like we always have. That's a really precious feeling. It sounds cheesy to say but it's reassuring to know that these old friends still consider you an important part of their lives.

Anyway, it is getting late. What else can I say before my face hits the keyboard?

Toshio is good! He's happy and healthy. He still pulls on the leash though. He's such a blast, a real joy in my life. He makes me laugh all the time just by doing nothing. He keeps finding ridiculous things in the snow - pants, a small pair of track shorts, jackets, a bagette, a head of romaine lettuce, a grocery bag that was full of bread loaves (which he "killed" and sent loaves of bread flying everywhere). Oh, a frozen pizza slice that he killed, a frozen fish. It makes you wonder what kind of people visit this park, ha ha. We've also discovered that Toshio HATES snowmen and likes to destroy them.

My birthday is coming up in a month. Normally, nothing really happens. Oh! However, this year.....my friend Ren will be coming out to visit me! Yippee! I'm excited. I booked the weekend off - and that better be valid still - and we have plans on going to a show. It should be fun! I hope it will be a good distraction for her!

Written Last Night

2007-11-17T19:20:00.000-05:00

All this work has really caught up to me. It's my first day off of my weekend and I feel like a monster of a cold is coming on. I'm heavy-headed, I'm slightly feverish, and all I want to do is curl up on the couch with a blanket. I'm emotional. I need sleep and soup and kisses on my forehead. Sigh.

The man is out of town, playing in Quebec City tonight. He'll be back very early in the morning as they are driving back after the show. I was left in charge of the dog today. I discovered what fun it is to walk a dog when it's cold and you are feeling like pure crap. At least, seeing the dog act silly and run around makes me smile. Yet, I have to say, I'm not looking forward to going out to walk him tomorrow morning and I doubt my partner wants to take him out if he only sleeps for three or four hours.

It's been a weird couple of days. Not weird, amazingly weird. Just weird; emotionally, regarding people, etc. On Thursday, on my way to work, I was laughed at by some teenagers in the metro station. This was not the first time. For some reason, teenagers laugh at me in this city. And no, I'm not being paranoid either. It was almost something out a movie. This chick pointed at me and laughed a big belly laugh, "HA HA HA, LOOK AT HER!". I didn't say anything, as usual. However, I walked away thinking that this really doesn't bother me. And I was grateful that I didn't let such a comment bug the hell out of me like it did in the past. Moments later, I was standing on the escalator. The man beside me, who sounded a bit drunk, turned to me and said, "I just want you to know that you are very beautiful and I hope you have a wonderful day." That was sweet.

An acquaintance from back home passed away today. It's made me a little sad, even though we weren't close. I will always admire her strength and positivity regarding life and her illness.

I'm done like dinner. Must curl up in bed or drink hot tea....

Travel Blog

2007-11-17T19:08:00.000-05:00

The best advice usually comes from someone else's mouth. Being online allows everyone to voice their advice and opinion, whether it is good or bad. When we travel, we usually talk to others that have been to those particular places. Word of mouth. We avoid the "bad areas", we frequent the "good" restaurants, and we discover all the "must-sees" from those who have already been there.

I found a cool travel blog online. You can read the reviews and opinions of cities and destinations, gathered by the editors at RealTravel. The travel blog is somewhat of a best of; regarding travel stories, recommendations, and travel news. I always think it's kind of cool to read about others traveling experiences. Not only does it give me ideas of where I am fantasizing about going next, but you know what to avoid (especially regarding hotels - once I stayed in a hotel in New Orleans that was chock-full of cockroaches!). Anyway, it's a good travel blog to spend a little time over and reading.

What's cool too? You can create your own travel blog there as well, to share your own stories!

Boring

2007-11-11T16:29:00.000-05:00

I do apologize for doing some website promotion in my blog but I need all the extra cash I can get! I cannot reveal my sponsors - ooh, how mysterious am I? Anyway, I thought I would write a real blog even though it seems as though commentary from friends are limited nowadays. I have to wonder if others are as sick of being online as I am or has everyone moved to Facebook?

I hope you are all well. Happy autumn!

There is not much new at my end of the world. After a long stint of not working, I am back at my job. My work is funny that way. Not "ha-ha" funny either. When there is no work, it's scary. The time off is intense and all my bills stresses me out. I slack off on my sad attempt at budgeting. However, when work starts up again...I transform into a machine. When it rains, it pours - as they say. It seems as though I have been working like a madwoman. I have some regular eight hour days and then I have a monster of a day - nine, ten, eleven hours plus. I can't complain - I do need the money, especially at this time of year. By the end of the week, I am toast. Done like dinner. All I want to do is go to sleep for a good two days. Therefore, my social life is non-existant. I don't have one.

And I can't really say that I mind. Of course, it would be nice to go out on the town and paint it red or get dolled up for an adventurous night. Yet, at the end of the week, all I can think about is being home and comfortable - spending a night curled up on the couch with my partner, the dog at our feets napping away, having a nice homemade meal that I am not in a rush to make. Oh, how domestic I have become!

I can't believe it is November now. Christmas is almost a month away. It is also a month away before I go home again. I have yet to book my flight because I do everything last minute. I feel bad about going, abandoning my dog and my partner. When I went home in the summer, I cried when I left Toshio...knowing that he's sitting there all bummed out and knowing that mommy's leaving. Ugh, it's heartbreaking to leave him when he is giving me that face that says, please don't go.

Anyway, what else can I tell you....

I'm reading here and there, watching some good and bad movies lately, making some wicked autumn meals (like veggie chili and homemade bread and cake), brainstorming for unique and inexpensive Christmas gifts, listening to a lot of Japanese instrumental music from the 60s, still plugging away at my gratitude photoblog, and playing one too many games of online Scrabble on Facebook.

Yep, I'm going through a boring phase.

Easy Travel

2007-11-05T18:51:00.000-05:00

Ah, it's getting to be that time of year again. The time when it gets frosty cold and you don't want to get out of bed unless it's to take a trip somewhere scenic or tropical. I admit that I am not the kind of person who craves a hot tropical vacation - I much prefer an old city full of culture and museums and interesting little cafes to waste the days away in.

I came across a website called Easy To Book. I know I have pointed my readers to those types of sites before, so pardon me if I am beginning to sound repetitive. It's a cool little site much like Expedia but for hotels only. You can find listings for hotels in many cities including Barcelona, London, and Rome.

Check it out - you might find yourself a deal!

Books - July to September 2007

2007-10-21T20:17:00.000-04:00

It's been a while since I have babbled on about the books I read (and the ones cannot remember reading). Tonight is the perfect night to check that off my list of things I have been putting off.

1) Red River Story - Alfred Silver
This was a thick and hearty read. I found it for a buck at the used book store in my 'hood. It was a great slice of Canadiana that I just ate up. It is about the first settlers to the Red River area in Manitoba, who came here from Scotland. The characters in the book were real, living people once upon a time. The major events happened in true life. The writer breathed life into these simple people and often complex situations. I read it before going back home to Manitoba and it was perfect timing.

2) The Zahir - Paulo Coelho
There is something I adore about South American writers. The language and the words seem much more delicious and intriguing. And this describes the book - delicious, intriguing, and perfect for a hot summer night.

3) Darker Than Love - Kristina Lloyd
When I went back home, my saucy friend Courtenay gave me the gift of an erotica paperback novel. Insert lusty smile here. Well, what can I say! It was kinda hot. It was kinda saucy. It's a historical piece of smut; full of corsets and bondage and dungeons and spanking. Sweet baby Jesus! I've notified Courtenay and suggested that whenever we exchange gifts, it has to be "an erotica paperback gift exchange".
4) Dying Hour - Rick Mofina
I'll be completely honest with you. I cannot remember this book for the life of me. I think it may have been about cops and murders. Regardless, my mom picked it up for me at a garage sale for ten cents and I rated it as simply okay.

5) When the Wind Blows - James Patterson
Once again, a forgettable read. I want to say it's about murders in Cape Cod but that could be another novel that I read months ago and didn't care for very much. I didn't enjoy it, whatever the case.

6) All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten - Robert Fulgham
Shut up. I needed a lighthearted read about the simple things in life. It was summer and I don't have much of an attention span when it's sweltering hot outside. It's a sweet observational book yet a little preachy for my liking.

7) The Commitments - Roddy Doyle
I read this book when I started working again. I wanted something short and sweet for the metro ride, for my breaks at work - something not too heavy but enjoyable. And I have to say, I did enjoy this book. It's fun, amusing, and there are some great musical references in it. It's a little unrealistic but it kept me entertained.

8) 1000 Pin-Up Girls
This was not so much a read rather than looking at amazing pieces of pulp fiction magazine artwork. It's full of cheese for all the right reasons. What I liked most about this coffee table book was all the old-school advertisements for joke books, gags to play on your friends, high heeled glamour shots of pin-ups, and how to be a hit with ladies.

9) You Are a Dog : Life Through the Eyes of Man's Best Friend - Terry Bain
This is by far the best book I read during these past few months. I bought this book for one of my best friends and I was a bad gift-giver by reading the book before I mailed it to her, oops. I'm glad I did and I don't think she minded. Books are meant to be shared! As you all know, I am a first-time dog owner. This book is written in the point of view of the dog; what they are thinking when they jump on the bed, what they feel when you leave the house for a short while, so on and so forth. My words are not doing this book justice. I may sound cliche. This book made me smile a huge smile. This book made me laugh out loud. This book made me look at my own dog a little differently. And this book, this book made me cry...especially when the dog panics at the thought of what if she-who-feeds-me doesn't ever return home (I always want to be there for my Toshio that once had a boo-boo in his heart! This dog of mine has seriously turned me to mush!). Terry Bain also has another book called We Are The Cat. Check his website at You Are A Dog and his photography groups on Flickr for Dogs and Cats.

On a side note, unrelated to books:
I've recently discovered Ane Brun. Look her up on Myspace. She's a great singer, if you are into singer-songwriter stuff. I'm not a huge fan of female singer-songwriters but I can't stop listening to her work!

He Swept Me Off My Feet

2007-10-06T15:51:00.000-04:00

Last night was just like any other night. We took the dog out for his nightly walk. I was talking and laughing with Zak about this and that. I had a memory of that time I went to Die Maschine with Rachel and Greg, when the bartender fed me glasses of gin and tonic and shots of jag in hopes of getting into my pants but instead I ended up falling off the stool and Rachel caught me. I laughed to myself. Good times.

Lately, my dog has been on edge. He's been a little nervous, barking in the house and being scared of random objects on the street. At night, he has become a little too riled up for our own liking. You know, jumping about and acting like a wingnut for a good five or ten minutes before calming down to his usual self.

Zak and I were walking along in the school yard. I turned to look behind me and I saw my dog, looking a little hyper with that crazed look in his eyes. I saw him run towards me in a slow jog. I turned to look ahead and I thought, he's not going to run into me. His slow gallop turned into a hearty gallop. The next thing you know, I'm on my back in the schoolyard for all the wrong reasons. Ouch.

My dog literally swept me off my feet. And once again, for all the wrong reasons. I ended up landing on the back of my head before the rest of my body hit the grass. No, I did not see any stars or circling birdies like in the cartoons (that would have been awesome though). Zak came to my rescue as I curled up on the grass and cried. I'm a suck, I admit it.

The tears were not cried in the honor of pain. It hurt more to hear my dog get scolded. Yes, he deserved the scolding but hearing Toshio get yelled at broke my heart. He ended up hiding behind the couch for the rest of the evening, looking scared and sad. And that broke my heart too.

I'm surprised and grateful that I am not in worse shape. I don't have much of a headache. My shoulders, neck, and back suffer from a dull ache. I have a slight bruise on my head (I landed on my hair clip) and on my calf. I didn't sleep well and I'm moving rather slowly today. The truth is, it could have been a lot worse. What if it was on cement? What if there was a rock when my head hit the ground? What if, what if, what if. I came very close to breaking my neck, in all seriousness, and I'm surprised I didn't have a concussion (A.K.A: "Pulling a Ren", ha ha. Speaking of Ren, too bad she wasn't here in Montreal. Gin would be lovely tonight over a discussion of head injuries. Maybe this is just God's way of telling me that I, too, need to get a Tamagauchi?).

And please, no lectures on the fact that my dog probably sees me as his equal and I'm not being disciplinary enough. I know this. I heard all about it last night from Zak. I know and I will become more stern of a mistress (heh).

Please, kiss my forehead now. It makes me feel better.

London Calling

2007-10-01T18:29:00.001-04:00

Ah, I have always wanted to go to London. What girl hasn't? Well, I suppose plenty haven't wanted to go but this girl does. There's something curious about the place - it's historic, royal, and full of sexy accents! I have a weakness for a good English accent, forgive me!

I also have a friend that works for an airline. She has a limited amount of friends and family passes. I mentioned that I would love to go to London and travel with her. It won't happen only because flying into the Heathrow Airport is one of the most costly in the world, according to my friend. With the friends and family pass, we would be paying for airport taxes and other such surcharges.

So, in sake of dreaming and fantasizing, I found a cool websites much like Expedia. It gives you cheap hotel listing for London, Manchester, and Birmingham. Oh, one day...my London dream will come true!

Bling?

2007-10-01T18:19:00.000-04:00

Are diamonds really a girl's best friend? It's kind of hard to answer that since I have never had a diamond or any other piece of jewelry given to me. Instead, I wear my plain silver ring that says NEVER COMPROMISE in bold letters and a dog that gives me endless kisses. Oh, I have a boyfriend too. He'll cook me dinner and clean the toilet, so that counts - ha ha.

I'm aching to spend money on myself. I went a little nuts this summer but I don't really have much to show for it. Sometimes, for curiosity's sake, I'll shop around for jewelry even though I don't ever seriously think about buying.

If I ever had a ring given to me, it should be unique. I'm not much into diamonds, unlike most girls. I'm actually a fan of amethyst jewelry. It is my birthstone, yes, but there is something classic about it. I'd love to have a little martini glass ring with a little emerald as an olive - wouldn't that be cool!?

Anyway, here's a decent shopping site for jewelry for you to browse!

Dream

2007-09-29T18:05:00.000-04:00

It's been awhile since I have shared my dreams here. I don't know who is amused by my silly night-time dreams other than Dawneth. Anyway, I told my partner that I had a dream about someone and he stopped me - he did not want to know any more. So, I share with you, my lovely blog readers...

I'm in Kildonan Mall, back home in Winnipeg. I'm with a friend. I cannot remember who, but I'm certain it was a male friend. We're walking through the center court area. As with many generic shopping centers, there is this center area with a sitting area (for the old folks and tuckered out parents of teenagers) with a skylight above. So, I'm walking with my man friend...we're chatting...laughing it up. I took a look at all of those sitting in the center court. It's full of goths. Goths, everywhere! And the goths...they had a ringleader in a trenchcoat. I didn't take much notice of who the ringleader was.

As we were walking away from the circle of goths, I heard a heckle.

"What is that? A man!? Look at her hands! She's got man hands! She's got man hands!"

In "real" life, I have had jocko types who have bluntly asked at the bar if I was a man or a drag queen or a lesbian just because I am tall and wear makeup. I never told them "what" I was other than give them a good bark and maybe once I shoved one of the jockos. Anyway, so there I am in the dream getting heckled. I turn around, mad as hell to see who said that. It was their ringleader in the art of darkness. And it was none other than Scott Baio.

I scream. I scream like I never have before. I scream to him that I am not a man. I scream that my hands are not man hands. And I left the best for last for my final scream:

"AT LEAST I'M NOT SCOTT BAIO, CHARLES in CHARGE!"

I walked away and felt incredibly satisfied that I left Scott Baio speechless. And then I felt a tinge of regret when I finally admitted it to myself, "I kinda liked Charles in Charge".

And then I woke up...

Need a Tutor?

2007-09-29T17:51:00.000-04:00

Clearly, I spend too much time online to find quirky and interesting sites that I will probably never use. I always keep my friends in mind when I find strange or useful websites. Once again, my search came up with an interesting site for online tutoring.

It's been a long time since I have been in school. Just the thought of being in school again makes me laugh a hearty and bitter laugh. I would definitely be a good candidate to subscribe to online tutoring. I would most likely need homework help.

One day, I think I would like to go back to school. I am not sure what I would take even though I have leaned towards cosmetic artistry for a long time. And for sure, I don't need a tutor with that - just a practice buddy! I do, however, love English and writing. Maybe one day I'll try my hand at an English class even though it has been well over ten years since being in one. Yikes.

End of Summer Update

2007-09-10T22:36:00.000-04:00

It's about time that I let you know the skinny on what's been happening in the lovely life of Linda. I haven't been blogging and writing as much as I would like to and I hope to get back into the swing of things, especially with summer sadly winding down.

I have to say, I had a truly fun summer. If I were to make a list of things that happened, it probably wouldn't amount to much as far as number of things go. I had a lot of great little things happen to me and, for that, I am grateful.

Firstly, we got Toshio the Happy Good Luck Dog. I remember the night I met Toshio. Zak dropped him off at our place as he was dogsitting at another friend's house. I was so scared! I never had a dog before, only cats. I was scared he would turn on me in the middle of the night and attack me when I was peacefully sleeping in bed. Those thoughts left me very quickly after that first night. It didn't take long to fall in love with Toshio. Somedays, I just look at him and I am amazed at what a wonderful creature he is. I am so very glad he is in my life, it's not even funny. I used to hate dog kisses and dog slobber and dog smell, but now...oh, how I love Toshio's kisses and I don't mind his slobber even when it's all over my nice skirts and I could honestly care less that he smells "like a dog". He's my dog and that's all that matters. He is well, thanks for asking! He is getting better around strangers and is behaving rather well. He is still pulling on his leash everyday. He has had many encounters with skunks recently and, knock on wood, he's been one lucky dog.

I'm sure all of you will remember photographs in my previous entries of the distinguished Chester the Cat that lives on my balcony. Just recently, we found out the history of Chester. His owner finally took the time to find her cat, after months of him living in a Rubbermaid container on our balcony. She told me that his name is Vendredi, which means Friday in French. He was born on Good Friday and he is seventeen years of age. He's an old man cat who does not want to go home, she said as she manhandled Chester. Last Wednesday, Chester started to look ill and I started to worry. I know he is not my cat nor is he my neighbor's cat. He is simply a cat that chose to live on our balcony in a blue Rubbermaid container for a house. He looked frail. He could not close his mouth, tongue hanging out. He had a glob of yellow-ish drool on his chin. He looked skinnier and he smelled rather funky. We were all worried, the neighbors and myself included. He disappeared this last Friday and I thought he went away forever. My neighbor ended up talking to the owner. Chester is back at his first home and the owner is not letting him out anymore. I hope she takes good care of him but I sadly doubt it. I wonder if I will ever see his handsome face ever again?

As far as my health goes, my thyroid has once again turned inactive on me. I had another series of doctors appointments and blood tests which determined this. Overall, I haven't been feeling that bad - just a little dizzy here and there, which I naively thought was the result of the heatwave we were having in Montreal. My doctor upped my medication and I am waiting for it to kick in. I have another blood test at the end of the month. As well, I have started a new skincare regime as per my lacklustre dermatologist. My skin currently hates me for using this particular gel that I am using. I have winter skin; dry and itchy. I have discovered that everything I use on my face contains alcohol which causes my face to feel like it is on fire and my eyelids to become extremely dry. I won't give up hope yet so see if there are any positive results.

I'm still laid off from work and I'm okay with that. Work should be starting up soon, so they say. They have recently handed off some paperwork to do at home and that made me happy. I like working from home. It means that I can work while listening to Guns N' Roses in my pajamas. I'm looking forward to starting work again - it gets me out of the house and it's always nice to have a regular paycheque. I'm not looking forward to dealing with people again and being away from my dog however.

I haven't been writing or being as creative as I wanted to be this summer. I have been taking lots of photographs with my digital camera so I guess that counts as something.

I have, however, been regularly watching that reality show called Big Brother. It's something that I am not proud of and I hate to admit how much I enjoy the show. I rarily watch television so you'd think that I would stick with something "smart". Heh, nope. It's trash television. Is it wrong of me to admit that, for once, I adore how the game is turning out? Is it wrong to be excited to see the person I want to win up there in the final three?! Err, admitting this makes me feel ashamed! One last thing - I love Dick!

I had the pleasure, this summer, of entertaining two out of town friends as well. Nicole came out for a few weeks in August and Ren came out this past weekend. Both visits were full of fun and exploration! I had a blast with them. You know, I don't have a lot of friends here so it was nice to get out and see all these little things I normally don't get out to see. It kept me busy, that's for certain! I went many places during this time too, many places I never knew existed! As well, I blew off some steam via the power of shopping. It's about time that I spent some of my hard earned money on ME. We went for lunch, we saw some pretty cool museum exhibits, we went to many different shops, and we did a lot of walking about. I can't wait until my sister comes out or even some other friends back home. Now I know where to take them even though I might still get a little lost along the way!

Speaking of shopping, I started to pick up a few gifts for Christmas already. I always despised those who shop early for Christmas. Perhaps, it is bitterness for being among the masses that shops last minute. I figure that in the long run, I will save more money by shopping earlier and bit by bit versus all in one shopping trip. I will also save some sanity, which is always a good thing. I picked up something cool for my brother-in-law and something really unique for my sister that I just know she will adore! Maybe this will give me more time to make individual cross-stitched goodies for people this holiday season!

Wow, what else can I tell you?!

What does the autumn hold for me? Hmmm...
Continue taking photos and loving my boo-boo dog. I would love to quit smoking for my health and to save money. I look forward to coming home for Christmas but I don't look forward to being apart from Zak and Toshio. I hope to get my ass into gear and start writing something more than a few blogs here and there. I hope more friends come out to conquer Montreal for a day or longer! I hope to have more drinks and more company over and invite more folks for dinner. I hope to work until late spring but we'll see what happens with my frequently unreliable job. I'll probably spend a little more time exploring Montreal on my own.

All in all, I just look forward to being happy and healthy and getting wintery dog kisses.

Travel, part three

2007-08-23T11:59:00.000-04:00

Here's another website for all the readers out there who are interested in traveling to Paris, France and wishing to stay at hotels in Paris. I haven't been myself but I hear it's an amazing place to visit.

This site is kind of like Expedia, where it is generally cheaper to book through their website versus going directly through the hotel itself. This site offers you deal for hotels in Paris, Paris hotels in the suburbs, etc. As well, there is a French site for Hôtels en Paris. It's worth checking out if you are thinking about traveling to France, whether it is to explore city life or to get away and enjoy the bountiful countryside.

If I could go, I would love to see the historic side of France! Ah, one can dream!

Travel, part two

2007-08-23T11:50:00.000-04:00

Here's another website for all the readers out there who are interested in traveling to Australia. I haven't been myself but I hear it's an amazing place to visit.

This site is kind of like Expedia, where it is generally cheaper to book through their website versus going directly through the hotel itself. This site offers you deal for Sydney hotels, Melbourne hotels, and Brisbane hotels. It's worth checking out if you are thinking about traveling to Australia, whether it is to explore city life or to get away and enjoy the bountiful countryside.

If I could go, I would love to see the wildlife side of Australia! Ah, one can dream!

Travel, part one

2007-08-23T11:43:00.000-04:00

From time to time, I write short blogs brought to you by a sponsor. I will update everyone soon!

I came across this really cool site called RealTravel. It's a travel guide and trip planner to help you out when planning a holiday. There are a lot of different options in this travel guide website - you can post travel guide blogs, share deals with others, learn from other travelers via reviews, and seek advice from professional travel planners. It is very interactive!

This travel guide website was voted as one of twelve essential travel websites by Forbes and Business Week. How can you go wrong?!

Bright Idea

2007-08-16T14:46:00.000-04:00

Since moving out with my partner, I have become drawn to making my home a much better place to spend time. When money is tight, you have to have a home that you enjoy to be in. That was the big difference between our last place and our current apartment. I actually take pride in my home. It's not just an apartment - it's a HOME. Believe me, there's a BIG difference between the two.

Though money is tight, that doesn't stop me from looking around online for cool additions to add to our home. Sure, I can't really afford to buy much...but it's still nice to look! I came across an interesting site for lighting fixtures, which is dedicated to household products such as ceiling fans, faucets, home lighting, chandeliers, etc. There's some very cool things on this no-nonsense site. A little out of my price limited...but amazingly beautiful things to add to your home.

I'm not at the point where I obsessively watch home decorating television shows just yet (thankfully, I have no television!), but I can admit that oooh-ed and awed over a few things on this site. Check out the "Fine Arts Lamps" for some really cool Asian inspired outdoor lighting ideas. Wow, soooo nice!

Tags: Home Decor, Lamps, Lighting

I'm back!

2007-08-02T20:30:00.000-04:00

So!

I should be writing this fabulous blog. You know, one that catches us up on everything that has happened in the last fews weeks. One that rants and raves about what a fantastic trip, without sparing you the sordid details. Believe me when I say that I want to.

However, I'm sitting before the computer and sweating. Sweating for all the wrong reasons. My twelve days in Manitoba was spent in sweltering hot temperatures. I return to Montreal for much of the same. I swear, this delicate flower is wilting.

I'll say this much - I had a blast. My last two trips back home were write-offs, being sick and all. This time rocked. I wasn't sick once! I saw friends, I spent tons of time with family, I kicked ass at American Idol on the Playstation, I took tons of photos (a lot, I'm afraid, weren't as artistic as I liked them to be), I got new glasses, I got a haircut, I spent waaay too much money on cheap shopping (A sweater for $6.99! Capri pants for $9.99!), and so on and so forth.

The downsides, other than the heat, were the terrible mosquitoes and the water. I don't know what it is but Winnipeg water tastes like dirt, even with a water filtering system. Selkirk water is undescribably bad. Not to mention, Manitoba water makes my hair and skin look like crap. Oh, and it always sucks to say bye and feeling like old friends have drifted away because of distance.

I will write in depth of my trip. Perhaps, I will do a photo-blog about it. Looks like I exceeded the amount of photos for my Flickr, so I'll either upgrade or find somewhere else to post them. Until then, hang on tight for a real update!

Poker

2007-07-20T10:55:00.000-04:00

I've been asked to write a quick review of a poker website by a sponsor. I'll be completely honest with you, I am not familiar with poker websites nor am I a participant in poker games. My view is simply the opinion of someone who browses websites on a frequent basis.

First of all, I like the use of color on this website. Of course, the color of poker is green and the color of money - however, it is also my favorite color so it makes me want to linger about. The use of the MAC logo within their poker logo is cute - I don't know if that is a good thing or not. What you can tell right off the bat is that this is MAC Poker Online. And that's a good thing, as I assume it is a bit difficult finding an online poker site geared toward owners of MACs.

What I can appreciate about this website with even my inexperienced eye is that there is a lot of informative updates and information on the main page of the MAC Poker Online website. It is written in a way that respects the readers intelligence without making it overly complicated, especially regarding the rules of poker for newbies like me!

Hiatus

2007-07-16T19:01:00.000-04:00

If you don't hear from me for a while, I'm on hiatus!

I'm going home for 12 days, starting tomorrow! I will be sure to update y'all when I get back!

See you after the 29th of July!

Mailboxes

2007-07-16T18:52:00.001-04:00

Nothing makes me happier than receiving mail. Good gosh, I love letters and packages. I love sending letters. I think the process of letter-writing is a lost art.

Anyway, I came across this website that sells decorative residential mailboxes. Some are amazingly beautiful. If I had a house in the suburbs or country, I would so get one of these. I would be a bit paranoid that teenagers would steal or vandalize them, but wow...I would love one of these. It would bring my love of letter-writing to a new level.

They also have wonderful commercial mailboxes. Take a look at the Regency Cluster Mailbox in black. I swooned when I saw this!

And for those website owners, they also have an affiliate program towards their mailboxes.

Books - April to June 2007

2007-07-04T16:22:00.000-04:00

It's been a few months and I have, once again, slacked off on telling y'all what I have been reading. Well, one book seemed to temporarily taken the life out of me and then I read a bunch of real crappy selections because it's summer (and I felt like reading crap, so there!). Some of these books I have read months ago so forgive me if my memory is a bit sketchy.

1) Tamarind Mem - Anita Rau Badami
I liked this one. Just liked. It is a story of a female in India growing up and reflecting on growing up, as well as with her relationship to her mother. After awhile, I admit, I became a little tired of her complaining about her mother. The novel took a turnaround and the last half of the book was about her mother reflecting on her own life and being a mother. I found this part to be the most interesting. I think the opinions and feelings of mothers are often overlooked.

2) Book of Longing - Leonard Cohen
Ahhhh, my future husband. This is the latest book of poetry and writing he released. I loved it, for the most part. There are some poems that make you feel hot and sticky. Others that make you laugh. There are a few that I simply did not care for. All in all, a good hot, steamy, bathtub or in-bed read.

3) Captain Corelli's Mandolin - Louis de Bernieres
This is the book that sucked a bit of life out of me and took me a little too long to finish. I struggled through it for the first 167 pages and contemplated putting it down. I stuck with it and I'm glad. I ended up reading the rest of the book lightning quick. I liked it a lot - the characters, the general story, the dialog. I ended up watching the film afterwards. Wow, talk about butchering the story. Insert foghorn sound here.

**And then I read a bunch of crappy, "light summer reads".**

4) Deadly Decisions - Kathy Reichs
Something about biker wars in Montreal, bones, and DNA. Yawns...

5) Midnight Bayou - Nora Roberts
This book's back cover promised me a thrilling read that will keep me on the edge of my seat. In reality, this book made me sleepy. Something about a ghost in the bayou and some rich guy from Boston who decided to renovate and haunted plantation house. I think. These light summer reads are blending into one another.

6) Bone Deep - Darian North
Something about some more bones and DNA and me napping on the couch.

7) Remember Me - Mary Higgins Clark
This was written by the so-called Queen of Suspense. Insert more napping here.

Anyway, in my defense - my mom picked up these light, summer reads at a garage sale. She went out of her way to send them and I figured that I should read them nonetheless. I feel like I have to justify reading those books. It was disgustingly hot out and I didn't feel like reading anything with hearty substance. I'm reading a good book now. In fact, I am very pleased with it. I'll tell y'all about it in my next installment! Stay tuned...

Tags: Books, Book Reviews, Literature, Novels

My Trip to the Dermatologist

2007-06-27T12:36:00.001-04:00

I waited three months to see a dermatologist.

I have complained and talked about my skin before in this blog. For those of you who do not know, I don't have the greatest skin. It is not as bad as before (it was terrible when I was 14 and around 21 years of age) but I still have slight scarring from hormonal cystic acne break-outs. Around PMS, I will have the occasional cystic acne...but as I mentioned, it is not as bad as before. In fact, my skin doesn't look that bad compared to years ago. With age, it is beginning to look pretty good. However, I'm 30 years old and it feels like my face is still 15 - haha. I'm sick of breaking out and I'm sick of the slight scarring. All I want is nice skin for once.

I waited three months for this appointment with the dermatologist.

I pretty much figured that my options were slim as I don't want to go on birth control pills, Accutane, or anti-biotics as suggested when I was 14 and going to the dermatologist. I thought, however, that there might be some other options to explore as it's been over ten years since I saw a dermatologist.

I waited three months to see this dermatologist and I felt like such a number. I was in and out of his room in a matter of minutes. He never asked me about my skin or what medications I have tried in the past, he did not tell me anything about my skin, or even ask "how are you today?". He asked me what I wanted, he took a look at my skin, and wrote a prescription. I seriously waited longer to get fast food compared to the time I spent in the doctor's room. I felt so rushed that I did not get the chance to ask him about another skin concern or a general question about heat rash (my partner is suffering from this at the moment). And I understand that I do live in Quebec but the guy could barely speak English.

Why is that I have to wait three months to see a specialist when he only gives me three minutes of his time? It doesn't seem fair especially when you think of how much money he makes out of my three minute visit!

He gave me a presciption for tetracycline and two different topical gels. Chances are, I won't use this prescription. He never told me what the side effects of these medications are, he never told me if they can be used with the thyroid medication that I am on, and he seemed defensive when I told him that I was on anti-biotics when I was a teen and it didn't work.

I can say this - when I was a teen, I saw a really wonderful dermatologist. He took the time to talk to you, he cared, and he thoroughly explained medications and skincare to you. You could tell he had children of his own. He was warm and gentle and professional. He did not rush you out in a matter of three minutes after a three month long wait to see him.

Anyway, my friend manages a health store. She suggested a number of things that I will look over when I go back home for a little holiday. Maybe I'll ask my family doctor for another referral to a different dermatologist too.

Or maybe I'll just have to live with less than perfect skin as I have been doing since I was 14 years old. Sigh!

Tags: Acne, Cystic Acne, Dermatologist, Skin, Skincare

Coupons

2007-06-15T13:55:00.000-04:00

Here's another heads-up for my American readers. I came across a website called CouponChief. Now, I love me some coupons and saving money. Heck, I'm Ukrainian and a Manitoban - we love our cheap deals and sales! So I come across this site and realize - I can't use these coupons (as far as I can see) because I live in stinkin' Canada, haha.

Anyway, there is a good coupon for Target. I wish we had one of those stores here. I love going to Target - they have tons of fun home decor items and they are pretty affordable. For all you cosmetics lovers, there are a few coupons for Benefit Cosmetics as well! And me, well...I love office supplies because I'm a nerd - there's even Office Depot coupons!

Yay for deals! :)

And then frustration kicks in...

2007-06-08T01:03:00.001-04:00

So, it's official. Being a tour widow is kind of dragging me down. It's been close to three weeks and I've kept myself occupied. I've kept myself busy. I've even had my hands full, for all the wrong reasons. There has been only one creepy insect sighting and nothing has dramatically broken down or gone wrong (the only close call being the skunk that nearly sprayed Toshio). This kind of luck is rare for me, it seems.

I can say this - I'm lonely. And that is what is getting me down. Sure, I have a four-legged companion now and I am grateful for that. I miss having a body around. I miss laughing with someone. I miss sleeping in and I miss not walking the dog in the morning. I miss being touched. I miss shared smiles.

It was much the same last time around. In the middle of being a tour widow, I turn to porn. Ah, porn! What a faithful companion! I turn it on expecting to be turned on and then the phone rings. I'm alone for weeks and the telephone barely rings. Finally, it does...I race to the phone and it is always the most unsexy people calling at clearly the wrong time. I won't name names. At least it wasn't my ex - he always had this uncanny habit of calling out of the blue when I just so happened to be watching porn. I swear he had some sort of "porn radar" or something when it came to me. Frustrated, I return to my porn only to discover that I overanalyze it to the point of not enjoying it. I shouldn't have to think when I am watching porn, isn't that the rule? So to put it bluntly, I am a bit frustrated at the moment. And that kind of frustration usually leads to pure anger and hatred towards most people. Haha...

I feel like my life has been revolving around the dog and admitting that makes me feel like one big asshole. I can't help it though, it kind of gets me down. At times, people ask me about the dog before asking how I am doing. I go to the park and I am forced to talk...about our dogs. I get advice, whether I like it or not (which I am grateful for, don't get me wrong). Everything is dog dog dog. And though I love my dog, I swear to God...he is aging me which each and every passing day. I'm surprised I don't have any grey hair - thank God for hair dye and good genes!

And for all those smart asses who will leave a comment asking me how my dog is, he is fine. He is getting better day by day, I think (I hope!). Our midnight walks are rather successful, I'm pleased about that. Our morning and afternoon walks - that is when I am subjected to learning the art of patience. There have been mornings where I came home and had dramatic meltdowns while dishing out dog food, actually pulled at my hair while letting out some sort of ungodly moan, and chainsmoked after the walk. I know it's not his fault though - he's only scared. His pulling is insane. Yesterday, he yanked me in such a way that I pulled something in my arm. Ouch.

The worst thing is how people look at me on the street with Toshio. They look at me like some sort of freakshow animal abuser. Some are amused. Some are appalled. Children stop and stare, riding up to me on their bikes without realizing that bicycles tremendously scare the dog. And I hate them all. See, if I truly got off on porn the other night...I wouldn't viciously loathe them as much.

I do what the advice-givers tell me - stop and turn, stand still like a tree. Reward him for good walking with a treat and verbal encouragement. And I do...and it does work. However, when he is scared - there is no stopping him. Saying NO! is apparently a bad thing and it really doesn't work anyhow. Once we hit the end of my street, it is not even a minute's walk. It takes us close to fifteen minutes. And in those fifteen minutes, all I can think about is going on a holiday - anywhere. This afternoon's walk was something else. On one side of the street, two boys were playing street hockey. One the other side, a bunch of five year old armed with heavy metal shovels and planks of wood, hitting the sidewalk. And then a car with a terrible muffler drove by. And then there was an abandoned shopping cart. And then people doing renovations. And then some jackass who playfully commented, "Your dog doesn't listen to you, huh huh huh" (that's French laughter, in case you didn't know). And then, I wanted to breathe fire on everyone.

With all that said, I sincerely love Toshio. He makes me laugh and we have a great time together. We run through the lawn sprinklers at midnight. I sing him songs that make him give me high fives (my biggest fan, by far, of my singing voice). He kisses me in the morning and he guards my side of the bed at night (he got stuck under the bed the other morning though). He runs through the white fluffy dandelions in the morning and has white fluff all over his tongue (and then he yaks, so that part isn't so cute). Other than his fearful walks and nervous barks, he's been a really amazing companion.

My life revolves around the dog. See!

On a good note, Toly took me out for a milkshake yesterday. It made my week. I haven't had a milkshake in many, many years. Sure, they are easy to come by...but I like to abstain from certain delights because when you finally taste or experience whatever it is you are abstaining from - it is explosive with flavor and texture and pleasure.

Heh, way to turn that dirty, Linda!

Dealing with Dog

2007-05-27T12:16:00.000-04:00

I think Toshio is officially draining the life out of me! In my head, I am screaming - "Calgon, take me away!" and "Good God, I need a vacation! Please, grant me a vacation! Vegas...Winnipeg...I don't care!".

Okay, so he's not that bad. I have to admit, he's a little neurotic since my boyfriend left for his tour. He is now barking at anything in the house. He has been reasonably good on his leash but this morning he pulled something fierce. He pulled to the point where his collar almost came off. He is really scared of people - people coming out of their cars, people on bicycles who choose to ride on the sideWALK, people who are making lots of noise. I keep getting handfuls of advice for his leash pulling and his barking. I even read online that I am supposed to look out the window to reassure him that there is no threat outside and then say he is a good boy. My hands are sore from the leash already. My body is tired. My voice is tired from saying no. I love the dog, don't get me wrong. I just want him to calm down a bit. God, imagine me with a child - yikes.

One trick I read online actually worked. Have the dog sit. You calmly say his name and "good dog" while softly petting his body, from his head to his legs. It apparently helps you bond with your dog. I noticed that when I do that, he calms right down. His body becomes less tense. He ends up on his back, allowing me to pet his chest and belly. He looks like he is in heaven. It's actually rather adorable. As well, I noticed that since doing that - he is spending more time with me rather than waiting at the door for my boyfriend to return home. I'm feeling lonely...I need some petting and encouraging words whispered in my ear, haha.

I ran into a man and his dog in the park, if you will, this morning. Of course, I didn't even have any coffee in my system so I was pretty out of it. We talked about skunks while Toshio played with his Scottie-dog named Miles. His dog got sprayed three times, once at ten in the morning. He told me that peroxide, baking soda, and dish soap is better than tomato juice to remove the stink of skunk spray. I should get some of that...just in case. According to this man, there are a lot of skunks in this area. Great!

Anyway, I had an exciting Saturday night last night. I cleaned the bathroom. How sexy is that? Of course, the bathroom really did need a good cleaning. I've been putting it off for far too long. Everything is shiny and dust-free. I get a bizarre sense of satisfaction out of that part. However, I could think of more interesting ways to spend my Saturday night than cleaning my bathroom. My entire Saturday was cleaning and saying no to the dog's barking.

Slowly but surely, all the sexy will be drained out of me by the time my boyfriend gets back from tour.

Tags: Cleaning, Dogs, Skunks

Tour Widow - Day One

2007-05-26T12:18:00.001-04:00

Ah, so today is the first full day of being a tour widow. I'll begin to conquer the day once the coffee kicks in. My man left us yesterday afternoon.

Our new dog is a little bummed out and that makes me sad. My man told me that dogs can sense your moods so I've been trying to keep up a cheerful and playful attitude around the mutt. Still, our dog waits patiently by the door for his daddy to return despite my efforts. Our first walk together sans daddy went alright. Actually, it felt like tug o' war between us.

Our midnight walk went surprisingly well though. Needless to say, the dog got a little cookie when we reached home. We usually take him to this parking lot at night, which faces a grassy hill. We both run around and act silly. So I let him off his leash and we begin to act goofy together. From out of nowhere, a skunk bolted across the lot. And of course, the dog thinks it is another small dog that he can play with. He got this incredibly silly look on his face that screams playtime. They went face to face and I was yelling at him to get back to me. Thank God, he listened to me and came back with this look of "what's wrong?". The last thing I needed was a skunky dog at midnight with nothing to cure it. By the way, in case something like this actually happens - what do I do? I heard something about tomato juice or tomato sauce. The highlight of our midnight walk? Since it was so incredibly hot and humid out yesterday - we found a lawn sprinkler and ran through it together! That cooled us both off.

Our morning walk was quiet and he was reasonably well behaved. I am not as overwhelmed as I thought I would be with just the dog and me. Now if he can only shut his trap when the neighbors are out on the balcony and I'd be happy! I think he is just trying to protect me though even though the neighbors think he is adorable enough to bring him "cookies". On a side note, the neighbor also brought me a big bag of oranges. I won't be getting any scurvy while my man is on the road, that's for sure.

My man played in Ottawa last night and it looks like everything went surprisingly well. We found out this morning that his phone card has expired which kind of sucks. I don't recall the phone card having an expiration date on it and it was only recently that I put more money on the card. You would think that a card would not expire if the card is still active and being used. I hate wasting money.

In other news, I made an amazing pot of coffee this morning. I'm hoping it kicks in soon. I feel beat and, for some strange reason, my right eyelid is swollen. Just call me Popeye.

I had a dream last night that my friend was pretending to be a werewolf and was chasing me around. I was giggling like a schoolgirl, bouncy in a tight sweater and all.

You know what I'm sick of? Myspace"friend" requests from books. Heck, I love to read. I adore the written word. However, I'm sick of seeing these stupid requests for books. I have accepted a few of them. For example, I accepted a certain book/friend request - not only does his punk rock writings seem interesting, he's a former Winnipegger and he's a cool, funny guy. Books on Myspace are becoming like music. It seems like anyone can put a book out nowadays. I suppose I should not assume but I highly doubt that the majority of these books are any good. I can say for certain, the book covers are usually terrible. I wonder if there is an option on Myspace that allows you to not accept requests from books? I know there is one for bands.

Anyway, this blorg is all over the place.

I should be making good use of my time. Conquering the day or something grand. My place is a mess so I think I should take care of that first. My life should be a little sexier than dirty dishes and laundry, haha.

Tags: Bands, Dogs, Musicians, Myspace, Tour, Tour Widow

Slightly Sickly

2007-05-19T12:54:00.001-04:00

I've been here in Montreal for almost three years and this is pretty much the first time I fell ill (not counting my wisdom tooth ordeal). My head feels heavy and feverish. My eyes are half-shut. I feel like staying in bed all day, for all the wrong reasons. It could be worse, of course. I can still breathe. My throat is not scratchy. My body and mind is simply feeling worn down and weak. I'm certain I will make pleasant company at the dinner party I am attending tonight. I'll be the one in the corner, grasping my forehead. Come say hi, I'll let out a pitiful moan in return!

Lately, my dreams are scattered and make no sense. I've come to realize the Gods of Sleep are working against me. Last night, I had a fantastic and potentially sexy dream of being in Las Vegas with a handful of former co-workers. I was in a skyscraper, looking at the city skyline with a smirk on my face and wondering what kind of mischief I will find in the middle of my night. Ah...and then the dog woke me up at four in the morning by getting sick.

Speaking of the dog, Toshio is getting along rather well. He is still quite afraid of people and strange objects (bicycles, pylons, plastic bags blowing in the wind, etc). He trusts us now, knowing that he does have a home to go back to and won't be abused. He behaves himself a little better on the leash, as well. He only starts to pull when he is scared or when he knows he is on our street. He still doesn't make much of a production when he has to go outside though so there have been a few messes here and there. I get tons of morning kisses from him, which is a bit strange, and he follows me around constantly, protecting me until a plastic bag crosses our path! And I'm getting used to taking care of the beast too. Of course, he thinks we're equals - I think - and doesn't listen to me as much as he should. I'm trying my best to be more dominent though I admit...sometimes I am so tired of saying no, heh. We'll see what happens when it's only me and Toshio for the next three weeks.

My stint as a tour widow starts next week. I hope some lovely gals will keep me company. Sweaty pillow fight, anyone?!

As some of you know, I get the summers (and Christmas) off at my work. It comes in handy. I get to go home when I can. Anyway, I managed to get a gig typing out my friend's film script...which was actually full of fun and surprises. As well, I took on some extra work from my job to complete at home. Without revealing too many details, I'm doing government agency evaluations via the telephone. It's easy, good money, and I could "go to work" while not wearing pants...if I want to. Pants-free Linda = Happiness.

One of the highlights of my week was finding a long-lost friend on Facebook. I found my old co-worker and good friend Liza. This makes me incredibly happy as she always crossed my mind since we lost touch. She's the kind of woman that brings a smile to your face and makes you feel incredibly glad that you have someone like her in your life as a friend. I've missed our talks and our laughs. She's in Tennessee now, happy and healthy and doing rather well for herself. That's exactly what I hoped to hear from her. I guess the internet is good for something other than porn, haha!

Lately, all I want to do is go home. I've been thinking about home a lot these days. I don't know when I can get home this summer. I have a dog to think about now and I'll be left alone for a good chunk of summer. I have to plan my trip around that and, call me selfish, it discourages me a little. I wish I could be there for when my father retires this month (just typing that brings tears to my eyes). I wish I could be goofy with my sister when she takes her holidays. I wish I could say happy birthday to my grandmother's face rather than over the telephone. I even wish I could be irked by my mom, haha. Sometimes, I feel like the worst daughter in the world for living so far from my family. I think I just need a good dose of endless, beautiful prairie skies and honest smiles from old friends to renew myself. I think I need an adventure.

But first, I have to get over this cold....haha.

Travel Bug

2007-05-18T18:19:00.000-04:00

Call it a case of boredom. I have the travel bug and in a bad way at that. I'm also not feeling very well - one of those spring-time colds due to weather change. I feel like I barely have the strength to type, let alone think.

So, I came across a site on Hawaii vacation packages. Hawaii is not one of my travel goals but, heck, it's nice to dream and fantasize about where I can go if I actually had the money. There are some nice packages there, I have to say. Ahhh...wouldn't it be nice to get away to a holiday one of their lovely Kauai condos?

Maybe one day...one day I'll enjoy a beautiful Hawaiian vacation package or (something else!) myself. Until then, I have my dreams.

Home Decor - Lighting

2007-05-03T12:38:00.000-04:00

Since moving out with my partner, I have become drawn to making my home a much better place to spend time. When money is tight, you have to have a home that you enjoy to be in. That was the big difference between our last place and our current apartment. I actually take pride in my home. It's not just an apartment - it's a HOME. Believe me, there's a BIG difference between the two.

Though money is tight, that doesn't stop me from looking around online for cool additions to add to our home. Sure, I can't really afford to buy much...but it's still nice to look! I came across an interesting site for lighting options called Farrey's, which is dedicated to household products such as ceiling fans, faucets, etc. There's some very cool things on this no-nonsense site. A little out of my price limited...but amazingly beautiful things to add to your home.

I'm not at the point where I obsessively watch home decorating television shows just yet (thankfully, I have no television!), but I can admit that oooh-ed and awed over a few things on this site. Check out the "Fine Arts Lamps" for some really cool Asian inspired outdoor lighting ideas. Wow, soooo nice!

Tags: Home Decor, Lamps, Lighting

Hair Complaints

2007-04-29T20:31:00.001-04:00

Freshly cut bangs = happiness.

I need a little happiness, I need a little bang trim. Badly. My bangs have gotten to the point of no return. I am forced to sculpt, if you will, my bangs in place with my bare hands. With this method, my bangs will stay in place for a good hour. A minute past that hour, it collapses like a house of cards. Tomorrow, hopefully, I will get my bangs trimmed and then I'll stop growling at the mirror. Speaking of my hair, I think I can honestly say that I am officially sick of it.

Back in the day, when I had money to toss around carelessly on whatever I pleased, I had some pretty cool hair. And when it wasn't "cool", I was trying fun things with it regardless of the outcome. I guess it comes in handy to work in a salon, like I did back then. As well, I knew some pretty amazing people in the hair business. I had so much fun with my stylist back then. Not only did she do a fantastic job, she had a heart of gold. She was one of those people that you just had to smile with. She saw the beauty in a lot of things, in a lot of people. She always made me feel beautiful and it wasn't because she was an awesome stylist. It was more than just that. She simply was a beautiful person herself, inside and out, who got herself into a bit of mess that I cannot elaborate on.

I haven't really let people mess with my hair since her, other than my mom and a few others. Needless to say, my hair has done nothing exciting for a long time. It's long. It gets caught in things. It strangles me in my sleep. My bangs look fine when they are cut but the rest of it is just there.

I don't like depending and becoming attached to hair. I just want to chop it off without having second thoughts (it's easier to do so when your hair isn't long). I don't like to be caught in that cycle where you wonder and obsess on what-if-it-doesn't-look-good.

Anyway, in the grand scheme of things - this means nothing. It's just hair and I'm just complaining. I've let only about three people in my life cut my hair - my mom, my wonderful stylist, and the stylist at the salon I worked at. Truth is, I just don't trust anyone when it comes to hair.

I'm thinking about finding my old stylist when I go back home this summer. I sincerely hope life is treating her well again. I sincerely hope she is brimming with wonder and beauty again.
Tags: Bangs, Hair, Hairstylists, Salons

Balcony Cats

2007-04-26T14:34:00.000-04:00

Lately, our balcony has been the meeting place for all the neighborhood cats to hang out. I have to admit, it's delightful for me. I love cats and it took a lot of getting used to not living with one, when I moved here. Recently, a handsome big tabby has decided to live on our balcony. I originally thought this cat was our neighbor's cat. Well, they thought it was ours and started feeding it. Now, they put a little box with a blanket inside for him to sleep in. He's very well behaved, very handsome, and I can't help but be happy that he has befriended us. I do hope, however, he has a home. I like to think that he just likes to beg at our door and then returns home at night. My partner has started to call him Chester, as well as lazy. We were hanging out on the balcony last night with Chester and a big kitten came by and the mangy local stray. My partner said that there is no way that Chester would protect the balcony from mice. Well, Chester proved him wrong this morning...when I caught him with a dangling mouse tail in his mouth.

Enjoy the pics!

Sleepy Chester the Tabby

Protecting the balcony from mice.

Sleepy Chester

Making sure Blackie doesn't cross any lines!

Blackie, who lives across the street with the caretaker.

Mangy stray cat. He's a scrapper.

Chester waits on our welcome mat.

"This is my balcony. Feed me."

Tags: Cats, Cat Pictures, Cat Photos, Felines, Stray Cats, Street Cats

Pixel-y Goodness?

2007-04-24T17:17:00.000-04:00

My television is junk. I don't watch television though sometimes, I admit, I long to. I moved here without understanding how much I relied on television as a source of entertainment. Now, I only use it to watch news on the one clear channel that we get in. We watch the vast majority of movies on the computer. It kind of gets tired after a while. Sometimes I wish I could watch movies in a fancy pants home theatre. And along with that wish? A microwave for the sole purpose of making popcorn.

I guess it gets complicated once you have a home theatre system or a big, shiny television like most people have nowadays. I recall going to my sister's place in the summer and seeing how pixel-y her fancy television became at moments. I suppose what is the purpose of owning a fancy new television when it becomes all pixelated?

With plasma tvs, I learned that often you get "ghosting" and "image burn-in". With LCD tvs, you get pixel drop out and trailing. There is, apparently, a simple solution to all these issues. With this special DVD called Pixel Protector you can fix all your worries with your fancy pants television set. It's actually kind of interesting to read over. I'm far from being an expert in these matters, but see for yourself. This DVD might help your pixel-y set.

RIP June Callwood

2007-04-14T14:00:00.000-04:00

Last weekend, I watched the last interview with June Callwood on CBC's The Hour. It was beautiful, touching - what a marvelous lady she was, full of grace and wit. If you want to watch the video of her, this is the LINK.

Last Updated: Saturday, April 14, 2007 | 10:28 AM ET
CBC Arts

June Callwood, the remarkable Canadian journalist, humanitarian and social activist, died early Saturday after a long fight with cancer. She was 82.

She was first diagnosed with inoperable cancer in 2004, but refused treatment and continued to be active, most recently on the campaign to end child poverty, until a few months ago.

Callwood blazed trails for women's rights, gay rights and the rights of the underprivileged in a history of activism dating back to the 1960s.

The author of 30 books, she was also the founder of a breast-cancer support centre, Nellie's hostel for abused women, Jessie's centre for teenage mothers and the AIDS hospice Casey House.

"The Casey House community is deeply appreciative to the Frayne family for sharing their precious mother and wife with us for so many years," said Jaime Watt, chair of the hospice's board of directors, in a statement. "We send them our love and deepest condolences."

Callwood was a founding member of the Writers' Union of Canada, the Writers' Development Trust, Canadian PEN, the Canadian Civil Liberties Association and the Canadian Association for the Repeal of Abortion Laws, the president of a prostitutes' community organization and a bencher of the Law Society of Upper Canada.

A tireless campaigner who harangued politicians, wrote letters and organized lobby groups, Callwood fought poverty and injustice wherever she saw it.

"She was gentle to a fault ... She wasn't called Saint June for nothing," said friend and writer Sally Armstrong.

Always dressed chicly and known for driving a sporty car, Callwood approached social justice with a smile and joyful, optimistic demeanour. Even living with cancer didn't seem to get her down.

"As a companion, June is self-aware, witty, non-judgmental, sophisticated, informed, passionate, available and loyal — all those special qualities, leavened with her own brand of quirkiness and self-deprecating irony," friend Sylvia Fraser wrote in Toronto Life in March 2005.

Takes on journalism challenge

Born June 2, 1924, in Belle River, Ont., a French-speaking community near Windsor, Callwood remembered the deprivation of the Depression years and a father who left the family when she was 13.

She found her way into newspaper writing during the Second World War, initially at the Brantford Expositor and later at the Globe and Mail.

At the Globe, she met and married sportswriter Trent Frayne, and quit her job at age 20 when she had her first child.

She and Frayne had four children — Jill, Brant, Jennifer and Casey — losing the youngest, Casey, in 1982 in a motorcycle accident when he was 20.

After a period spent raising her children, Callwood began freelance writing, starting with a magazine piece on her flying instructor, a woman named Violet Millsted. She wrote for Chatelaine and Maclean's, tackling such subjects as the sexual abuse of children, birth control, test-tube babies and the battle of the sexes.

It was later, when her children were adolescent hippies, that Callwood began her social activism.

"What brought me on to it was during the '60s in Yorkville — that was my watershed," she said in an interview with CBC Radio.

A hippie at heart

Callwood said she was "entranced by the hippie movement," but noticed that when hippie kids from the Toronto suburbs went home there was an underclass of homeless, poor youth remaining in Yorkville.

"Everyone thought it was a middle-class kids' revolt. What was going underneath [was] that despair of thousands of teenagers who've never had anything and thought for one brief crazy moment that there was a place for them," she said.

Already a founding member of the Canadian Civil Liberties Association, she tried to get help and health care for the poor homeless youth, and saw doors slammed in their faces.

"That politicized me — that did it," she said. She founded a house, Yorkville Digger House, for them to live in.

In the summer of 1968, Callwood was arrested for protesting against police conduct in Yorkville. "I thought I was ruined," she recalled in an article in Saturday Night magazine.

"In my generation, you didn't get arrested unless you were an awful person. One year later, I was B'nai Brith Woman of the Year!"

Founded shelter, hostel for teens

A prominent voice against sexual violence and domestic abuse, she was founder of Nellie's Hostel for Women, a shelter for abused women in Toronto, serving as its first director in 1974. She also founded Jessie's Centre for pregnant teenagers.

She continued to write prolifically on feminist topics — penning Love, Hate, Fear and Anger (1964), Canadian Women and the Law (1974) and The Law Is Not for Women (1976).

Other books from this period include Emma: The True Story of Canada's Unlikely Spy, the story of a young Doukhobor woman from Saskatchewan convicted of spying for the Soviet Union and imprisoned in the late 1940s, and Twelve Weeks in Spring, about the last months of a friend named Margaret Fraser, who died at home with the help of a group of friends and volunteers.

"Someone in that group said to me that being with Margaret was like studying — we were boning up for our own deaths," she said in a 2004 interview with the Globe and Mail.

"It was a huge gift to us, in fact, because there's a great pleasure in providing palliative care, in surrendering your own ego totally in order to stay in tune with the person you're trying to help. You're not calling the shots for once. You're not doing anything except getting the ice cream."

Callwood's next big project was Casey House Hospice, for people dying of AIDS, which opened in 1988 at a time when there was little effective treatment for the disease.

Faced accusations of racism

With her direct, shoot-from-the-hip style, Callwood was described as better at founding organizations than at running them.

She was disparaged by public accusations of racism in the late 1980s, a period of extreme political correctness.

A conference she organized for the Canadian branch of PEN International was picketed by local black writers for excluding writers of colour, despite PEN's plan to bring in writers dedicated to freedom of speech from Ghana, South America and India.

The bad vibrations around the dispute spilled over into her term as a director of Nellie's, where an employee accused her of racism and the board boycotted a fundraiser it had asked her to organize.

There followed months of accusations in the press, with Callwood portrayed as an insensitive WASP, despite her years of activism and Métis background.

"Except for my son's death, nothing in life had hurt so much," she said in a Toronto Life article.

Callwood had two TV programs, In Touch on CBC (1975-78) and Callwood's National Treasures (Vision TV 1991-96), and also a column in the Globe and Mail that highlighted social issues.

She continued writing about AIDS in Jim: A Life With AIDS (1988) and Trail Without End: A Shocking Story of Women and Aids in 1995, the story of 20 women infected with the AIDS virus by the same lover. She also wrote Callwood's National Treasures, a book of portraits of great Canadians.

She has been an awards judge for Governor General's Literary Awards, National Newspaper Awards, 1976-83, and National Magazine Awards.

Callwood was made member of the Order of Canada in 1978 and officer in 1986, and has won numerous humanitarian awards and honorary university doctorates.

She points out that her effectiveness in leading change evolved from her energy and work, instead of privilege.

"I don't have power — I have influence," she said. "Power and privilege? It's an ability to help to change. My prominence is a trust."

A park in Toronto's Fort York neighbourhood has been named after her.

Tags: Canada, June Callwood, Women

Wish I could go...

2007-04-13T21:29:00.000-04:00

...to Amsterdam!

Sigh, the travel bug is in me...and I just can't seem to shake it. I wish I could go away from all this snow and winter than won't ever end! Anyway, for those readers of mine who actually have the luxury of travelling - I found a good website geared towards vacationing in Amsterdam, Barcelona, and Rome. Oh, the thought of it even feels great as I keep warm inside!

EasytoBook offers information on hotel rooms and accommendations, as well as lists the tourist attractions in each city. I was most impressed with that feature. There is a lovely description of each tourist attraction, complete with a Google Earth map - good job!

For kicks, I compared EasytoBook with Expedia. I don't know if I am blind or not web-savvy or not well-travelled, but it looks to me as though they have Expedia beat by a long-shot.

Poker Party

2007-04-13T21:01:00.000-04:00

The Big White Cat with a Small White Head

2007-04-10T18:47:00.001-04:00

I don't need to tell anyone that I am secretly a crazy old cat lady in training.

This afternoon, I peeked out the front door window to see my neighbor feeding her tabby cat (the one I recently blogged about) and the squirrel. Yes, they were sitting side by side. I never met her before - only her husband, who is a bit standoff-ish but generally a nice man. I heard from Zak that she is a nice older lady so I thought I would say hello and introduce myself. Heck, we've been neighbors since November afterall.

I had other motives though. I wanted to find out the name of her old tabby cat and what happened to her other cat that hasn't been seen outdoors in many months. I've been waiting to photograph this cat that I affectionately call "the big white cat with the small white head". Everytime I saw this cat, I'd get a chuckle. He'd be sitting outside on the balcony tied to the railing with a small string, while sitting on a small piece of cardboard. The tabby was free to roam...but no, the big white cat with the small white head clearly had special needs. We'd imagine that white cat with a white ruffly satin clown collar, just sitting there tied to a string on his small piece of cardboard while saying a humiliating "meow".

Unfortunately, I did not like what I heard. She told me that the (big) white cat (with the small white head) died. He was poisoned. He was on his string (sitting on his piece of cardboard, I imagine). He ate something. He went inside the apartment and died a short time after. This made me rather sad, I have to admit. For months, I have been waiting to photograph this silly looking (but adorable) cat. And now he's gone, died without a name. At least, he had love and a warm home to sleep and a lovely piece of cardboard to sit on.

I asked her what her tabby's name was. He has no name, she said, she did not know. She takes in stray cats and feeds them and, clearly, the tabby decided to live with her and husband. It made me smile - I have a neighbor with a good heart, which is a big change from my last neighbors who piled dog shit in front of our living room window and waist-deep garbage in our fire escape. She seems to feed all the stray cats, as well as the squirrels and pigeons. She seems like a sweet lady, even though sometimes there are about 20 pigeons on the balcony.

I like to believe the big white cat with the small white head died of natural causes, in his sleep where he was dreaming of eating fancy cat food out of foil packets or chasing a delicious bird. May his kitty-cat heaven be lined with cardboard. Godspeed, big white cat with the small white head, godspeed!

Tags: Cat, Cats, Felines, Neighbors

Green

2007-04-09T18:29:00.000-04:00

In hopes of spring finally arriving, I colored my eyelids with a lovely combination of bright and dark green. Why won't spring arrive??? Le sigh!

I was also inspired by another gal's makeup I saw last night on an online dating site. No, I wasn't looking for a "prince charming" - I'm happy with the one I've got. Every once in a while, I browse online dating websites to find eligible ladies for my wonderful and single friend back home. As well, to have a bit of a chuckle.

So in the midst of hilarious, desperate, and a few sincere profiles, I was taken aback by this one woman's profile pic. Her eye makeup was amazing! I can't even describe it, it was that stunning. Her eyeshadow looked like a dewy meadow - such a beautiful emerald green that lit up her face and made her look intoxicatingly mysterious at the same time. Ah, I totally had makeup envy! I could never wear green like that!

Anyway, besides being green with envy - I had a few laughs while browsing this particular website. There are A LOT of makeup disasters going on in the world of online dating. I'm sure they all have hearts of gold but they could definitely use some tips on applying black eyeliner. Yikes!

Saturday, I am grateful...

2007-04-07T15:34:00.000-04:00

This is a post from my other blog - 365 Days of Gratitude Photoblog

...for the beauty in reflection and being struck by the words of someone who is strong and fearless.

I could not find a photograph to express how touched I am today. So I ask you today, not to look at this photograph or just read my simple words. Today, I ask you to watch this video of an interview I watched on television last night. I haven't turned on the television since November and I was glad that when I did turn it on - I saw something that touched me and brought a tear to my eye. It made me think, life is worth living to the full. Take every moment and appreciate it. And I hope that I will come out this strong and this graceful in the face of death.

Please click HERE.

Tags: Death, George Stroumboulopolos, Grateful, Gratitude, June Callwood, Life, Photoblog, Reflections

Flood

2007-04-07T15:28:00.000-04:00

I miss home - Selkirk, there's no doubt about that. I miss my family, I miss my old friends. I miss sitting at the crummy old coffee shop, complaining about feeling stuck in such bleak little town we affectionately call Selkatraz. It's funny how it takes moving far away to an exciting, fast-paced city can make you appreciate the slow moving town you grew up in.

I like hearing stories from back home. I like hearing the gossip, the small-town news. Sometimes, it is hard to connect to a community when you live in a big city. I can't even admit that I was connected to my community when I lived there, but at least I knew who my neighbors were and they returned my hellos and my good morning smiles.

My hometown made the fark.com headlines yesterday, as well as the other news sites and national news programmes. The ice has broken in the Red River and there is a jam, which caused the dike to be breached. I feel a little left out. I wish I could see the river. There's something hauntingly beautiful when the ice breaks. I remember years ago, standing by the bridge in the silence of the night and listening to the sound of ice breaking, the water flowing. It's peaceful, calming.

Of course, it's a little different once it is all said and done. Here are some photographs that my lovely cousin took.

(Sometimes, I feel insecure - that I am too rural, too "small-town" for the city folk that surrounds me here. My stories are a little different than yours, maybe a little more naive - maybe a little more plain. Rest assured, my heart is made of gold too - but as the color of a prairies sunset, the color of the fields of wheat).

Here's a LINK to the news story/video.
Another LINK, with photo of the stupidest location for an apt.building.

Tags: Flood, Flooding, Ice Jam, Manitoba, Red River, Selkirk

Like Snow in April...

2007-04-05T17:26:00.000-04:00

I love the first snowfall of the year. I love walking down a lonely street in December, with big snowflakes swirling all around me. It makes me feel at peace, it makes me feel romantic. I love the color of the sky when it snows like this.

However, come April...I'm just sick of the damn stuff. Here are a few shots of last night's snowfall from the view of my front door.

Tags: April, Montreal, Photography, Snow, Trees

Broadband

2007-04-04T14:19:00.000-04:00

I know I have a few loyal readers from the UK here, so I thought I would bring this broadband provider website to their attention. I'm not too familiar with cheap broadband providers or their prices, to be honest with you.

It's a pretty thorough website that shows you a list of different broadband internet options and providers. They offer a list of different links and deals, as well as reviews for you to browse over. To my inexperienced eye, there looks to be some fairly good deals out there.

This site also has a section that gives you some explanations on broadband providers, ADSL broadband, and the like. It's pretty informative for people like me!

Anyway, I thought I would let you know in case you are looking for different internet broadband options!

Books - March 2007

2007-04-03T16:12:00.000-04:00

It was a modest month as far as reading goes. I find I don't read as much when I am working a lot. I save my reading for the subway ride and work breaks. If I feel decadent, I'll draw a bubble bath and read there.

1) Welcome Home: Travels in Smalltown Canada - Stuart McLean
I liked this book a lot. It is far from a "classic" novel and it isn't the "coolest" book to be seen with, but it appealed to me. I spent a lot of March being homesick and wanting to surround myself with smalltown folk. You know, the kind of people that talk about random smalltown happenings at the local coffee shop. People who say thank you and look you in the eye. I miss that. I read this book and it warmed my spirit. I particularly enjoyed the chapter about smalltown Saskatchewan and British Columbia. What I made me smile was the mention of Chinese food restaurants in the middle of nowhere in the prairies. I remember being a kid and going to one in rural Saskatchewan, as my Gedo always gave us a dollar for ice cream when we visited. As an "adult", I went to one in rural Manitoba. It was probably the highlight of that summer - having a cup of super cheap coffee in a restaurant that looked straight out of the 50's, where you could actually buy a single can of tomato soup for fifty cents.

2) Love Life - Zeruya Shalev
This is a book about a woman's obsession with a much older man, a friend of her father's. It is what it is. It is all about obsession - the obsession in wanting to discover someone's mind and body, the obsession in all the questions being asked and never answered, the obsession in the wonder of why you are obsessed with someone who often disgusts you, the obsession in the distance and closeness of bodies. It is a richly written novel, with beautiful words and intensity. I have to admit, it is a little too intense at times. There were moments when I wanted to shake the character in hopes she would quit obsessing about this man. There were moments I didn't want to read any more, I was tired to listening to her. If I felt her feelings of obsession - that means, it was an effective novel. It made me feel her emotions.

3) Elle - Douglas Glover
This was another interesting read. I picked up this Canadian novel for a dollar at the used store down the street. It is a take on a historic story of a woman who was left alone to survive in Canada before it was settled in the 1500s. I appreciate the fact that the writer is male and not once did I think her character was written by a man. It is intense, sad, funny. There are slight sexual moments. There are spiritual moments that are hazy and desperately lonely. The background is bleak and lonely, but Elle is complex and intriguing. It was a good read, especially in a hot bath.

Until next time...

Tags: Books, Book Reviews, Literature, Reading

Laugh of the Day

2007-03-30T19:11:00.000-04:00

So, I was at the grocery store the other day waiting in line. I was so tired that day. The kind of tired in which you can get into a giggle about absolutely anything. The girl at the counter asked me, in French, if I wanted to donate two dollars for a heart and stroke charity. I was surprised at myself! I actually understood what she said! I was rather proud of myself.

Of course, I didn't know exactly how to respond to her question. I think I know how to say I don't have any money but I don't think that would have been the proper way to express the fact that I didn't have any change on me since I was paying with my debit card. I told her that I did not have two dollars on me.

She was French and didn't know much English. She called the teenaged bag boy over to repeat what she asked me even though I totally understood what she said. The kid comes over and calls me Madam, which kind of makes me sound like a drag queen and/or old but whatever. In his translation, he said:

"She wants to know if you want to give two dollars for someone to have a heart attack."

Bahahahahaha!
I didn't laugh out loud, that would have been rude. I'm sure my attempts at French would sound just as strange. I couldn't help but laugh inside though.

And yes, I ended up donating with my debit card because that was the best laugh of the day.

Tags: French, Funny, Humor, Laugh, Lost in Translation

Slow

2007-03-19T19:27:00.000-04:00

For the first time in a while, I've had an actual weekend off. I'm talking Saturday and Sunday off, plus Monday. I was looking forward to this. I wanted to go for a late morning breakfast. I wanted to do a little writing. Maybe even catch up on some email. Lord knows how lazy I am when it comes to emailing people back promptly. Err.

And of course, my entire body started to fall apart on Friday night. Great.

My teeth started to hurt. You see, I have this one vindictive tooth. Every now and then, it misbehaves. I wait for the pain to pass, as it eventually does. I know that there will come a day when the pain won't go away and I'll have to take care of it once and for all. And that day will probably be when not much money is coming in because life is a jerk that way. Nothing spells fun like getting a $1400 root canal when you are unemployed. *grits teefs*

Just to torture myself...I went browsing around online to see if my tooth pain is related to any other aspect of my health. For once, I actually found good news and not morbid information. Apparently, when your sinuses are messed up it can affect your teeth. I'd rather deal with a sinus issue than a really expensive dental procedure.

Anyway, I felt like my head was a brick this weekend. Tooth pain (it was more like the roof of my mouth was severely bruised, to be exact) truly drains the life out of you. Top it off with the beginnings of a head cold, and you just don't want to do a single thing but curl up on the bed and sleep with the aid of painkillers. And that is what I did. I feel like the weekend just zipped past me and I accomplished little. Curses!

I managed to drag my weary body to the optometrist this weekend though. In my attempt at getting to the bottom of my lack of balance, I discovered that my prescription has changed. Seems like I have astigmatism in my right eyeball which could actually be the reason why I feel like a bit of a lush when I am walking. I hope that's the answer because I'm sick of seeing doctors and having to be aware of how I am walking. Thankfully, it is not as bad as it was back in December. You never really think when you walk down the street, other than to pay attention to cars or a mound of dog shit or a patch of ice on the sidewalk. Since December, I've had to be aware and stay focused while walking. Believe me, it cuts the fun and relaxation out of going for a walk.

When you are under the weather, it is natural to think of all the things that you could be doing if you were well. I have to remind myself that this is my body telling me to slow down and take time for yourself. It's okay to stay in bed with a good book. It's okay to take a long, hot bath. It's okay that you did not go-go-go - even though you have been on the move all week. Basically, it's okay to be lazy. That's what I keep telling myself, since I really do waste time. Sigh.

I guess I did accomplish some. I did some baking, which caused the aroma of cinnamon to swirl around the apartment. I finished reading a pretty darn good novel. I took care of my health. I wandered into an old antique shop to look at this strange instrument and visit the black street cat that lives there. I did all the grown-up things that needed to be done - including my taxes! I made a nice dinner on Saturday night. I watched a silly movie. I wrote to Felica, in one of many journals I have filled for her. I took a nap or two. Oh, and most importantly - I did some sewing. No, nothing fancy and creative. My winter coat's buttons were dangling by a thread and three fell off. My cardigan had a small hole at the seam, which ended up becoming a very large hole. I've been putting it off for such a long time. I've probably looking like a bit of a hobo these last few weeks.

Speaking of hobo, here's a Canadian flashback.

Anyway, I'm off to work tomorrow. This potentially could be my last week of work, as we normally take a bit of a hiatus for the summer. I don't mind being off in the summer but I'd be happy to work well into spring. I need the money, just like everyone else. I'm trying my best to get ahead but it never seems to work that way, even with my brand new nifty budgeting skills. Looks like I'll save a whole $21 this pay period (thanks to our ridiculous hydro bill and getting new glasses so I can see/not fall on my ass). I have this odd feeling that I will sent home early this week. It's a mainly French project we are working on. In the evenings, I'll be waiting patiently by the telephone to purr questions into your strictly Anglo ears...

Tags: Astigmatism, Cold, Eyes, Life, Looking Like a Hobo, Sick, Weekend

Books - January to February 2007

2007-03-13T20:58:00.000-04:00

Aha, once again....I am compiling a list of books read for the year. I try to accomplish this every year. I hit August and, somehow, I chose a book that drains the life out of me. Last year, it was Rushdie's Satanic Verses. I swear, I took a long break after reading that one. And sadly, I didn't even finish that bloody book.

Since I didn't write about these books after I immediately finished reading them, I probably won't remember many highlights of my read. Bear with me.

January 2007
1) The October Country - Ray Bradbury
I read this. I liked it. I thought I was picking up a full novel when I started to read this one. After the third story, I realized that they were short stories. I was pleasantly surprised. I usually don't care to read short stories, to be honest with you. I like to commit to full length novels that I can willingly fall into. Anyway, I did enjoy this read. Some stories sent shivers across my skin. Good job, Bradbury!

2) Striptease - Rachel Shteir
This is a non-fiction book about the history of burlesque. It was interesting and I learned a bunch of facts that I would never know otherwise. However, after a while all the facts kind of blended together. I lost track of who was who. It seemed a little repetitive and that made me lose a bit of interest. Yes, that is not telling you much about the book. Keep in mind, I read this at the height of health issues. My attention span was more focused on not falling over.

February 2007
3) I, Robot - Isaac Asimov
I tried really, really hard to like this book. I try really, really hard to like sci-fi novels. Truth is, I just don't like 'em. I liked the beginning of this book but it just didn't hold my interest. It was written well and I'm sure my dislike is only because my personal preferance of reading material. I became lost in it for all the wrong reasons. At some point, I didn't know who was a human and who was the robot. I did notice, however, that when I was reading this on the subway and looking good - I attacted a lot of nerdy looking guys. There's nothing wrong with that.

4) Deception Point - Dan Brown
I figured that I should read a Dan Brown novel. I didn't have too much faith in this book. There was so much talk about his book, The DaVinci Code, I thought I should give one of his novels a go. Plus, I got it free because I had a coupon from a box of cereal. It is written for the masses. It looks like a thick, hearty read. In reality, the book was only thick because the type was big enough for the legally blind to read it. That bothered me. The language is simple. The lines are cliche. I think he does have some good ideas but he is really writing for the masses. It bored me. And the ending - boy, I loathed the ending. Cliche! And not only that - I don't even care if I am giving out spoilers on this piece of crap - the main character hooks up with the leading man. He's a biologist or something (I'm trying to block it out). He gives her a gift to show his affection for her, a really sweet gift that is unique. Main character scoffs and tells him to try flowers next time. Jesus, that pissed me off.

The best part of this novel was when I was reading it in the bathtub and I accidentally dropped in on my soapy chest.

5) Freakonomics - Steven D. Levitt and Stephen J. Dubner
I liked this book for many reasons. First of all, it is a book that I have been anxiously waiting to read but too poor to buy. My mom, the wonderful mom that she is, found it on sale at my small town book store for $9 because the cover was slightly damaged. It was good. Full of interesting facts that I didn't know - the connection between the level of committed crimes and legalized abortions, the connection of what how successful your child will be and the first name that you give them. Full o' facts. I like facts. They're sexy.

So as they say here in Quebec - that's it, that's all. *makes sweeping motion with hands*

Tags: Books, Literature, Novels, Reading

Life, life, slow little life...

2007-03-13T20:06:00.000-04:00

I think it is about time for an update. I know y'all missed me. Now, do you want the glamorous version or the truth?!

In all honesty, not much is going on and I think I like it that way. I could, however, be making much better use of my time. I keep telling myself that but by the end of the day or the work week, all I want to do is mellow out and kick back. Thankfully, I don't have a television set that works and gets a variety of English programming otherwise I would probably waste a lot of time. Really, is it wasting time if you choose to curl up on the couch or soak in a bubble bath to read? No, I don't think so.

My health has been alright. The dizziness/lightheadedness is coming back every now and then. It perplexes me. It only seems to hit me when I am walking outside and usually when I am alone. I'm beginning to think it is either completely psychological or it's my ear. I had a nasty ear infection last summer and who knows what kind of damage could be throwing my balance off. I'm also getting my eyes checked this weekend. To clarify, it's not really a dizziness now. It's more of a lack of balance which is a little frightening as I am already clumsy.

Speaking of clumsy, I fell down some stairs the other day. Sadly, I wasn't carrying twelve cream pies. Actually, I was laughing at the neighbor across the street as he was wearing his neon green toque and a bright striped t-shirt. I couldn't help but laugh at his outfit, I wasn't laughing at him. Honest! He is a bit slow and always asks my partner specifically for old coins from other countries. I never saw him in such a bright outfit before and a laugh slipped past my painted red lips - and then I fell down about five stairs to the bottom. The neighbor looked thoroughly disturbed, like I ruined the routine of his entire day. He stood there, looking disturbed at the sight of me falling down the stairs and then laughing to myself at how clumsy I am. A few hours later and my body started to ache. It wasn't as funny as before.

Work has been fine. There's always something to complain about but I'll just keep a pleasant smile on this face of mine. Actually, I enjoy work these days even when it feels long and repetitive. We joke around a lot and we talk girl talk. I like it. And I miss that. There's a lack of girl talk and giggling over ridiculous things in my Montreal life. I have it with my fellow co-workers. I appreciate it. As far as the work itself goes, it's work. Sometimes I'm tired of repeating the same things over and over again. Sometimes I'm sick of smelling them all day long. Sometimes I'm amazed that people take work so lightly, and this is coming from someone who is pretty lazy. I never slept in for work, I'm always on time. Even when I hate the job I am doing, I'm always there and reasonably ready to work. As well, work makes me want to smack people with cell phones. One day I am going to flip out and I look forward to that day. Maybe I'll even stamp my foot as I bark, "we pay you to work, not to text message your - tabernac!"

What else, what else...

I haven't written in a while, or at least not this weekend. Sometimes my mind is distracted. I can't be creative because of this or because of that. I know they are just excuses. But one thing is for sure, I can't be creative if the entire house is a bloody mess. I cleaned this weekend. I started a little writing project a few weeks ago. I don't want to talk about because I'm secretive that way. It's something that takes a lot of thought and I find that I am mentally exhausted after a handful of pages. The way I see it, if I am not in a mental rush in regards to it - there's nothing wrong with taking my time. Who knows if it's any good. Right now, it's just something for me.

Which brings me back to the idea of making better use of my time. I know I should. I know I have to, if I want to continue to be happy after work ends. I find that when I am not working, I fall into some sort of tragic slump. I feel worthless when I am not working. Yet, I start working again and I feel like I am just another working dummy going over the same motions day after day. I have some friends that truly inspire me to create and hone my apparent talents. It's a matter of getting off my ass, quite honestly. It's a matter of believing what you are doing and can do. I lack this. I see myself as a number. Someone who is ordinary and plain, who will never lead a spectacular life and time is running out. I have to shake off that feeling. There is nothing wrong with leading a life that isn't seen as spectacular to others. As long as it's spectacular to you...that is what counts. The problem is, I don't think I am that satisfied and I am often disappointed in myself and what I do. I know there is talent and drive kicking around here somewhere. It's just a matter of doing it. Soon, I will have time. Work will end and my partner will go on the road. I will have time to be creative. I just have to promise myself that I WILL accomplish something that makes me happy whether it's a knitting project or that so-called book I playfully challenged myself to write last year when the band went on tour.

Sometimes I wish I could go back in time. I wish I could go back to certain places and just inhale all the old scents of my past. When I was housesitting years ago, there was the smell of lumber and spring-time that reminded me of going to the lumber store with my father (he used to go to a store called Beaver Lumber, heh) and yet reminded me of the pain of a broken heart. When I worked at the Bay, there was the stockroom full of pillows and comforters (trust me, a roomful of pillows will give off a distinct aroma). That room was my escape from my boss, who liked my Ukrainian cleavage a little too much. The smell of lemon peppered fried eggs and hashbrowns - I could never recreate that breakfast meal or the aroma. The smell of old pencil boxes full of crayons reminds me of being a kid - if I stick my nose close to one of my partner's old parlor guitars, it smells like that.

I'm babbling.

Reflections On My Thirtieth Birthday

2007-02-14T13:03:00.000-05:00

My thirtieth birthday has come and gone. As the calendar page turned over, I was happy to discover that I did not feel instantly older. I still feel like myself, only with a badge that tells me I'm officially an adult now. And as a friend told me at the stroke of midnight, I can now act like a kid because I can get away with it without being labeled as someone in their annoying 20s. Thirty is the new twenty, I have heard as well. And I have heard from enough women in their thirties that reassure me that they are now having the time of their lives. Good to know, it's not like I can physically go back to my twenties anyhow! I'm thirty and there's no turning back - I feel like I should do some sort of celebratory high kick in the air while wearing scratchy polyester pantsuit like that skit on SNL. I'm fifty! *kicks high in the air, without tearing scratchy polyester pantsuit*

I had a lovely birthday, thanks for asking. My boyfriend woke up with me, even though he played a show the night before and got home quite late. He had morning coffee with me, which I found to be rather sweet, and gave me my birthday gift. Ah, my bathroom is now complete with the wonderful skull and crossbones shower curtain that I have pined for, for a long time now. It goes well with my Umbra black fishbone soap dish. *big goofy smile*

It was a quiet birthday, however. I had to work that day and, boy, was that a kick in the pants. It was not a stressful day, thankfully, but we were at the end of a project so we had to work our asses off. Luckily, I have a flexible voice that can reassure or excite or convince - whatever you want my voice to be, it can. Of course, someday people are jerks and my voice's capability will not prove successful. On my birthday, I was on fire. We had to get the project done so I played it up. I added concern, if the person was unhappy. I became uptight and professional, if the person was uptight and professional themselves. My voice was outgoing while talking to giggly college girls who just love, as I imagine them jumping up and down and having a sweaty dorm-room pillow fight, the quality of service provided to their student loans. Oh, and the best...my greatest ability, adding sexy to my voice to convince men to participate in telephone studies. Hey, you gotta do what you gotta do. It's bad enough that they honestly don't want to participate. You might as well make it a little entertaining for them. Anyway, I ended up working overtime on my birthday. I didn't get out of there 'til well past seven at night.

I came home to a wonderful, casual dinner made by my boyfriend. He's a good cook, needless to say. We talked about our days, his show the night before that I could not attend. My belly was full of homemade food, which is truly a great feeling on a cold winter's night.

My telephone was a little too quiet, I must admit. A friend from back home did call but did not recall that is my birthday. Even though he oftens calls me his best friend and we have known each other for about ten years now. At least, I talked to my family and a few phone calls trickled in over the next few days.

A little later in the evening, a couple of our friends stopped by. They went all out for my birthday and it did make me miss home a little less. Thank you! I couldn't believe people took my online birthday list seriously - I mean, I did secretly want all those things I posted but I was simply joking around when I said to buy me things. I'm not that much of a princess, I swear. I just have a stupid sense of humor. Nonetheless, Ryan and Vanessa came armed with individually-sized penis cakes for my thirtieth birthday as they knew a friend of mine back home makes penis cakes and they didn't want me to be missing home on my birthday! It was a very sweet gesture that made me smile. They gave me a little gift, full of nice things like penis candles and a penis post-it notepad and a penis birthday card and Avon footsoak/cream. I guess the Avon part didn't quite fit with the theme there, but my feets are quite happy now! As well, they are giving me the Housewives Tarot deck that I wished for but it is a little late on arriving. I felt truly spoiled. Also, I opened the gift from my parents. It wasn't so much the contents of the gift that surprised me - it was sheer amazement and wonder of how my mother can fit so many little gifts into one regular sized box. I know Parris probably read that sentence and laughed a great dirty laugh (no matter how I worded that, it still sounded dirty). My parents gave me a ton of stuff - from the fancy KitchenAid pizza cutter that matches my curtains and dishes to packets of rice and Asian seasonings, from cute coffee themed pajamas to various bakeware found at the Dollar Store or at garage sales. Oh, and plenty of chocolate and little cards from them and my grandmother. I felt so loved and spoiled - but I'd give those gifts all up just to have a slice of cake (um, not the penis cake though) with them that day. Well, maybe I wouldn't for that pizza cutter, haha. It's the sexiest pizza cutter I have ever seen, I have to mention.

All in all, I had a lovely birthday with my friends. We sat around and talked, ate a little penis cake, and had a good time. I ended up dipping into the gin by myself and felt a little warm and fuzzy. Good times.

On a side note, I have been feeling a lot better since taking iron supplements and thyroid medication. I feel much more mentally sharp and on the ball. It's been a long time since I felt this way. I no longer feel dizzy and incapable of walking fast in public. I feel a bit happier and more willing to work at what makes me happy, if that makes any sense. It is as though my creative edge has woke up after too many years. I hope this is a good sign as I enter my thirties.

Here are some pictures of my night...well, mostly just the penis cakes, haha.

I received a small chocolate mouse from my co-worker Nicole.

Clean shaven, straight hair, curly hair, and black!

What fine craftmanship!

I ate the black one.

Note, penis candles! Happy Birthday to me!

Tags: 30, Birthday, Cake, Gifts, Happiness, Health, Penis, Penis Cake, Presents, Thirty, Turning Thirty

Turning Thirty - A Wishlist

2007-02-05T18:54:00.000-05:00

So.
I'm actually hitting the so-called "big 3-0" this Saturday. Yikes, I'm not sure if I like this "milestone". It's intimidating and haunting. Thirty. 30. Three-Zero. No matter how you type it, it all seems too grown up for me. Dare I say old?

Actually, it doesn't seem old considering that many of my friends are well into their thirties and they are all still cool and stylish and act like little kids every now and then. It's a kind of strange that sits on a more personal level. It's like one day you are in your carefree twenties, boozing it up and not worried about money (or whatever people in their 20s do, haha) and then the next day you turn thirty and wonder where those years have gone, all those New Year's resolutions that never have been completed. Perhaps, I would think differently if I had others to care about (err, like children) to put things into perspective. Or maybe not. I could be just talking out of my ass as far as I'm concerned!

It's weird, though. There are a lot of things that I should have done and probably shouldn't have done, in my twenties. I won't be spending my time here, beating myself up and confessing all the shitty choices I made. Like that time I thought it would be a good idea to go to school and get a student loan. Farg! I think about that every time I go to work. I paid X-amount of money for school and I work at a call center? Well, at least it is a decent one that gives me time off when needed and I'm mainly doing supervising. I just got a raise the other day - go me! I think about all the things that I did not do - like use my talents. Turning thirty isn't a death sentence though, there's plenty of time to complete what I truly want to do.

So, on that note, I am turning thirty. Therefore, you all should get me presents. Last year, I posted a wish list and received NONE of them. Actually, I ended up buying myself a couple of them well after my birthday. I'm posting another list, for your enjoyment. Hint, hint.

Last year, I asked for a skull and crossbones cardigan. I'm still waiting! Hell, I'll even take a plain pink argyle cardigan!

Also, I asked for the Housewives Tarot card deck. I did not get this either. That's okay, I can still go on the website and play around. By the way, they are available on eBay. :)

I still want a naughty, naked latch hook rug kit. Not necessarily this pattern, but something with naked boobies that I can create with little pieces of yarn. Check out their website - www.madewithsweetlove.com.

And I still want to see a giraffe. Please, take me to see a giraffe? I'm pretty and I want to see a giraffe!

A new addition to my birthday wishlist is a retro Winnipeg Jets t-shirt. Not like I like hockey, I just like Winnipeg and I want to attract other 'Peggers to me when I'm walking down the street. Girl sized t-shirt, please!

A skull and crossbones shower curtain. Yes, it will make our bathroom look even more tiny, but at least it will look stylish! It will also go well with my fishbone soap dish.

Yarn. It seems to be a little too challenging to find craft supplies in Montreal. I want to make a hot pink scarf, meow!

I want some bubble bath. I prefer Ombra's line of bubble baths. Nothing beats a Ginger Lime bubble bath on those wintery nights.

White roses. That would be nice. I don't need 12 of them, one will do just fine.

Last but not least, a penis birthday cake made by my lovely friend Nicole. I don't expect to get one as she lives far away and it probably wouldn't look or taste good when it arrives in the mail. Ah, maybe she can surprise me with one the next time I come home!

You get the point and I'm getting kind of bored posting these pics. I'm pretty easy when it comes to shopping - books, homemade gifts, sexy gotch, or even a simple card will make my day. What I really want I can't have. That is to be with my family, with a little boozin' it up with my old friends back home, and later come stumbling to play with my cat Tiki. Sigh!

Tags: 30, Birthday, Gifts, Presents, Thirty, Turning Thirty, Wishlist

Chia Hippo Update - Jan 24-28th

2007-01-29T14:11:00.000-05:00

So, it's been a few days. Let's see what's happening in the world of my Chia Hippo...

He's starting to look a little more hairier! Thank goodness, I was beginning to worry about him.

He is finally comfortable with his new hairstyle. Note, the subtle smile on his Chia Hippo face.

Unfortunately, he is still suffering from a wee bit of patchiness.

Chia Hippo after his pilates class. He really broke a sweat this time.

Ah, Chia Hippo. I think he is looking smashing!

Tags: Chia Pet

Blood Test

2007-01-29T13:45:00.000-05:00

So the good news is I'm not going to die. I can now sleep at night, haha.

I received the blood test results today and I am now glad that I didn't throw that raffle. Otherwise, I'd be handing out the prizes left and right! Fortunately, there is nothing too severe that cannot be fixed. Being a lazy vegetarian didn't pay off - I seem to be "severely anemic". As well, I have a bit of low blood sugar and low cholesterol. Not only that, I have a "lazy thyroid" (but I'm pretty!). I guess I shouldn't laugh at that. I just keep imagining my thyroid gland kicking back on a recliner and watching television all day long. The good news is...my cervix is in perfect form. Ha-zah!

These results don't come as a true shock to me. Actually, it all makes sense. My doctor said that with a "lazy thyroid" you often feel tired and you have no desire to do anything. Heh, and how! It explains my pale complexion better than the fact that I used to go to goth clubs, haha. It explains how terribly weak I feel sometimes. Somedays I feel like Mr. Burns, all brittle and weak.

Now, I have to take iron supplements and thyroid medication. And then I'll begin my career as a world class arm wrestler. Watch out! Truth be told, I'm just looking forward to having energy again. I can't remember when I last felt like I had some.

And you all thought I was just sleepy and lazy!

Tags: Anemia, Blood, Cholesterol, Health, Iron, Thyroid, Weakness

So the other day...

2007-01-28T23:59:00.000-05:00

I'm at work doing surveys. And I call a man named Mr. Mehboob. Heh. Meh. Boob. I giggled out loud.

Ah, it is the first day of my "weekend". Last night, our friends came over. We drank a little beer, smoked some cigarettes. The boys went off to listen to some music. The girls sat on the couch and clucked away. We ordered some pizza and that was an instant satisfaction. You see, PMS Monster demanded melted cheese and lots of it. There has been a sad lack of cheese in my life lately so that pizza made me feel truly euphoric.

Tomorrow, I get my blood work results back from the doctor. I won't lie and say that I'm not concerned. I'm just a little nervous. I suppose the reassuring thing is that they didn't need to see me immediately. I'm assuming if it is truly bad, they would have rescheduled my appointment to an earlier date. Wish me luck! I still think people should be placing bets on what's my health problem. It could have been a fun thing to do - you know, like raffles during the Grey Cup. Most people have their bets on low iron. I agree with the odd few that say hypoglycemia. Who knows, maybe thyroid will be the winning diagnosis. Thyroid's a jerk that way. My bosses keep saying I'm "with seed" and have the tapeworm, since I'm always hungry. That's how rumours start, I told them. To set the record straight, I am neither "with seed" or do I have the tapeworm.

I feel like the day zoomed past me. Didn't I just roll out of bed a few hours ago? And now it's quarter to midnight. It's no fair, I say! I have to say, I accomplished very little. I did some of my darling domestic duties. I took a hot bath. I surfed the net and posted in my daily photoblog. I drank hot tea. I played around with my cosmetics. And now it's close to midnight. I guess I'm allowed to slack off on my day off.

I did, however, have fun playing dress-up. I, once again, attempted to create a vampy 1920's face. I wouldn't call it a great success. 1920's makeup always seems like a good idea. I love that decade for makeup but I can never get it right. It's frustrating. Painting on those Clara Bow lips, those bee-stung lips, is always a huge disaster. It never fails, I end up looking like a bad drag queen.

It reminds me of that time my friend and I thought it would be a brilliant idea to dress up in modest lingerie and do our makeup in 1920's style....while drinking copious amounts of gin. Anyway, once we got the photographs back from developing, we had a good laugh. Yep, drinking and applying vintage makeup looks don't mix. And nothing is more glamourous than vomiting after a boudoir photoshoot. Hot.

My attempt at a 1920's eye went alright, actually. I suppose if I had the appropriate costume, eyebrow shape, and hairstyle - I'd be more convinced. I don't know if my face belongs in the 1920's or a goth club.

The bee-stung lips. Ack, disasterous as usual. Perhaps if I had a different shape of lips it would look better. I can achieve the shape of the popular lip look of that era with lipliner. Once I fill in the lips with lipstick...enter bad drag queen. I laugh at how ridiculous it really looks. I ended up filling my entire lips, in defeat. I guess I'm just not ment to have bee-stung lips.

Excuse me while I babble about makeup.

That's what I love about makeup. It's fun and I get lost in it. It relaxes me, unless something goes terribly wrong. Like that time I thought my black liquid eyeliner was concealer. I think I breathed fire that morning.

Meh. Boob

Tags: 1920's, Bee-stung Lips, Bloodwork, Cosmetics, Doctors, Health, Makeup

Obsessing About Health

2007-01-23T19:20:00.000-05:00

There should be a website for wingnuts like me to make it easier to assume what their physical ailments are. For a good month and change, I've been wondering what the fark is wrong with me. I'm dizzy and lightheaded, I'm off balance, I'm hungry .... the list goes on. Sometimes it feels like I am on a plane, ascending or descending. It is hard for me to be in a crowded place with lots of busyness around me. I have to stay focused on what is straight ahead of me when I walk (narrowly avoiding stepping in dog crap on the sidewalk). My concentration is off. I don't know what the hell is wrong.

So, this is why there should be a website out there for people like me who obsess and analyze my health until I feel even more shitty. Instead of random Google searches for possible illnesses, there would be a page of symptoms that you check off. You know, kind of like one of those silly blog quizzes one does to see what kind of an evil CareBear they would be or what kind of famous serial killer they are. You just click on the symptoms list, submit your results, and outcomes all the possibilities of your health issue. And it would be in percentages, like you are 60 percent likely to have Lyme disease and 45 percent likely to have vestibular neuronitis, for example. Having your possible list of illnesses cuts your internet search down in half - it's all right in front of you! With handy links! And it's all available at one handy location! No longer do you have to stay up all night in front of your computer, searching webpage after webpage about what deathly disease you have. Just take a survey, click submit, and you have one page full of ailments to obsess over. All night long.

Truth be told, I tried my best to avoid abusing the search engines to figure out what's wrong. I've been fairly good. I gave in, though. It sounds like dizziness /lightheadedness is a common symptoms of a lot of diseases, minor and major ones.

I have to admit, I am a little nervous. I received a phone call from my doctor's office. They told me that the blood results are in and the doctor wants to see me. After the removal of my blood last week, I booked an appointment. I thought they would have made some sort of note about this upcoming appointment related to my blood work. I got a little worried - what if there is something worse that they wanted to urgently talk to me about, what if it's this, what if it's that.

I asked the receptionist, "Is this an urgent matter, like 'you're going to die' kind of urgency?"

She laughed it off and said she didn't think so. I know they aren't allowed to say anything to me anyhow. Clearly, there is something funky (I'm trying not to say "wrong") with me...if they want to speak to me about tests. Ugh. This means waiting for a week to go to the clinic. Which I can handle but I really want to know what's going on with this body of mine. I'm starting to think I should hold some sort of raffle to see who guesses my illness. So far, there are some bets on low iron. My money is on the hypoglycemia.

I guess I will know soon enough. I'm a little worried about starting to work again (tomorrow). Nothing beats feeling dizzy when a metro car is whizzing past you. Good times.

I must go. I have a steamy date with my newfound culinary skills, vegetable broth, and leeks. And I can't get that damned Hockey Night in Canada theme song out of my head....

Tags: Blood, Disease, Dizziness, Health, Illness, Lightheaded, Sickness

Chia Pet Update, Jan 17-23rd

2007-01-23T13:28:00.000-05:00

It is time for another update. I know you all are curious about the health and well-being of my Chia Hippo. Don't worry, he misses you too.

The best place to start, his ass. You see, he is having trouble growing hair(or herb, if you will) on his wee behind. I feel kinda sorry for him.

Look, he is wearing an irritated face after I took that picture of his ass.

The next day, he forgave me.

Here's a nice close up of his growth.

Chia Hippo hates the cold weather and being stuck indoors. This is his view.

I gave him a few days off from posing. Actually, I was just lazy and didn't want to take his pic. Here is his new 'do after a few days.

Don't let it fool you...he is still very patchy. Poor guy.

And this is today! :)

Tags: Chia Pet, News, Update

Weird Dreams

2007-01-22T14:32:00.000-05:00

My head has been like a turned-on television set when I fall asleep. I dream, on and on. Though I have slept, I wake up tired but very amused.

I had a dream yesterday that I was in this very fancy and exclusive magazine/wine shop. I was with a good friend of mine. This was a lovely place to be; trendy music playing in the background, mahogany decor, and a lovely wine selection. We walked around the place as though we owned it. I had a glass of red wine in my hand and I catwalked in front of the magazines as though I was a supermodel or had a lot of money to blow on magazines for the rich. We drank our wine and looked beautiful.

Sitting on a mahogany bench was this young man. He was rather nerdy, with chin length hair and glasses. He began to walk about and I began to notice him a little more. He was looking at me. He commented outloud, "They have nice magazines here", while staring directly at my boobs. He just called my boobs magazines!

After a while of drinking wine and roaming around with our noses in the air, the young man approached us. I gave my friend a look of pretend-you're-my-boyfriend. The young man simply wanted to thank us, in a snooty accent, for making this stop on our trip to Montreal and to support the scene. We thought he was a complete wingnut.

And because my dreams are so stupid, I proceeded to go to the magazine/wine shop's kitchen and do dishes while standing on a wee stool and the kitchen staff glared at me.

When my friend and I were leaving, there were grocery store type check-out lines at the exit. I noticed the young man again, but with a woman. And then I figured it all out - he was with his mother and he was really only twelve years old. The thought of a twelve year old calling my boobs "magazines" left a bad, bad taste in my mouth.

The next dream, I was in a very big and open room that had lots of couches and seating areas. My close girl friend was with me. An long-time online friend was there as well. My girl friend presented me with this tiny stuffed animal that she made out of pom-poms and felt. My online friend picked up the toy to look at it, and then made the stuffed animal kiss my nose and my cheeks. He did the same to my girl friend. We felt warm and fuzzy. And then he gave us acid.

He gave us these pills that he called acid, but really looked like the anti-anxiety pills I have taken before. I thought, I shouldn't be doing this, this isn't right. But my online friend, who was wearing wonderful pants, put the pill under my tongue and told me to let it dissolve in my mouth. I couldn't say no, he just had such a nice pair of pants on. He gave my girl friend some pills too. He gave me another pill. He gave her another pill. By then, I noticed everyone was high around me and it was a very peaceful room. Little did my online friend know, I only took half a pill and hide the other pills under my leg. I was feeling dizzy and stoned (not like I know what an acid-high is like anyway). I kept asking myself, what is he trying to do by feeding us all these pills...oh, but his pants are sooo nice.

And then I spent the rest of the dream cuddling with my girl friend on a couch. We took a walk-around and I figured out that we were all in a police youth detention center.

Tags:Dreams, Drugs, Sleeping

Hinterland's Who's Who - Spiders on Drugs

2007-01-17T22:09:00.000-05:00

Anyone who grew up in Canada with a television set grew up remembering the great commercial spots sponsored by the Government of Canada. Of course, there were wonderful vignettes of our history and the faithful Hinterland's Who's Who spots. Apparently, those in Quebec do not seem to remember such commercials. Watching such informational commercials bring me back to my childhood, giving me a warm fuzzy feeling. Just that opening music makes me feel like a kid again. For example, this one is about the great Canadian Cougar. No, I'm not talking about the 40 year old lady in tight jeans that dances at your local top 40 bar.

The other day, my friend told me about a Canadian short film that was a hit at the Winnipeg International Film Festival. It is poking fun at these old commercials. It's brilliant!

Tags: Canada, Canadian Wildlife, Commercials, Drugs, film, Hinterland's Who's Who, Spiders, Spiders on Drugs, Youtube

Chia Pet Update - January 12th to 16th

2007-01-17T21:27:00.000-05:00

So it's been a few days and the Chia Hippo has yet to grow his mossy coat. He may be patchy but I still love him.

Starting to grow a little mohawk!

He has a stunning side profile, if I do say so myself.

The plastic bag suffocation trick works! He's starting to grow!

Don't laugh at his patchiness...

I think my Chia Hippo was up to no good in this photo I took yesterday. Notice his curious way, as he looks out the window with wonder.

Looks like he took a little vacation while I was sleeping. Lucky Hippo! Must be nice to lounge around on the beaches of Greece.

Chia Hippo meets friends wherever he goes!

Tags: Chia Pet

Healthy Resolutions

2007-01-16T19:42:00.000-05:00

It’s only the middle of January and I have already completed two of my so-called New Year’s resolutions. The first resolution completed - I have (nearly) abandoned my fear and went to see my very own doctor.

I saw my new doctor for the first time last week. The clinic was surprisingly empty. I was afraid that it would be full of snotty children and other various St-Henri folk who may or may not have the dreaded “gastro” that is going around in Montreal. The only annoying part about the wait was the young college student who talked loudly on her cell phone the entire wait. I heard all about her car troubles and the difficulty scheduling her dance classes – like, omg, shut up!

When the doctor finally saw me, she put my mind at ease. See, I’m scared of most doctors as I believe they will tell me something truly awful and tragic. For example, “You are going to die”. She didn’t. She was very reassuring and very friendly. I confessed that I was nervous to go to the doctor. She asked if she makes me nervous. We laughed it off and she told me that if there is anything wrong, we can fix it. Instead of having to fill out a sheet of medical history while I waited in the lobby, she asked me questions and wrote it down herself. That impressed me. I didn’t feel like a number. Much like the walk-in clinic doctor back home, I felt like she was her only patient. I think that is important in finding a good doctor.

She gave me no explanation for my odd dizzy spells though. We talked for a while. She listened to my lungs and heart, checked my neck glands, and recorded my blood pressure (which is apparently “perfect”). She said the reasons for my dizziness/lightheadedness could be a number of things, including anxiety as the doctor back home mentioned. Another good sign of a good doctor – she doesn’t seem like a pill pusher. If it is anxiety, I do not want to rely on pills unless I truly have to take them. She agreed with me and said that exercise is the best remedy at times. Now, if they could only make a pill to end my sheer laziness!

This morning, I had blood work done. I had to go in twice – once before eating breakfast and once after. They will be checking for hypoglycemia, thyroid, iron, glucose, and so on. I will get the results come January 29^th. I’m not as paranoid of the results. I’m at the point where I just want this lightheadedness to end. I’ve basically been off for an entire month on a work hiatus and I haven’t been up to venturing out solo. I feel like I haven’t done enough during this time off, physically and socially speaking.

During this time off, however, I have completed my second New Year’s resolution. I have made soup.

Now, I realize this isn’t a life changing resolution like most people make and then eventually break. That’s why I keep my resolutions simple. I don’t even like calling them resolutions. Ah, more like non-stressful plans for the year ahead of me. If I fail to complete a non-stressful plan for 2007, it’s no big deal. I think the idea of finding a new doctor was the most stressful one on my list. However, one should never underestimate the power of a good bowl of soup.

I have to toot my proverbial horn here. I made a pretty damn good pot of soup for my first time. Sweet Baby Jesus, it was a damn fine bowl of soup! I made a tasty pot of leek and potato soup. It was a, as Borat would say, great success! And not only a pot of soup, I made a dozen of cheese and onion muffins to eat with it.

I rock domesticity.

Tags: Doctors, Health, Resolutions, Soup

Chia Pet Update

2007-01-10T21:08:00.000-05:00

I know...y'all have been on the edge of your seats, waiting for the hot Chia action...

When starting your Chia Pet, be prepared for a mess. I don't think I would ever want a child doing this in my house unsupervised. It's messy and it's not as easy as it looks to apply the seeds. You don't need two teaspoons of seeds either. You soak the seeds which turn into this strange seedy gel. You carefully rub the gel on your hippo (yes, it sounds pretty hot, huh?) and wait for the seedy action to begin. I'm still waiting.

As you can see, the Chia Hippo is not as bathed in seeds as I wanted him to be. It's rather difficult and I'm sure his coat will be a patchy one.

It's been about a week and the only growth has been on two or three seeds. Maybe I need to sing the Chia theme song to it?

Despite my tiredless efforts (okay, only filling his planter to the top everyday), Chia Hippo has yet to grow a mossy pelt. Torturous methods were needed - I am now forced to mist him with water and keep a plastic bag on him. I'm cruel that way. Note: Weedy the Bonsai Weed is in the lower right hand corner. :) Send him special growth vibes.

Stay tuned...

Tags: Chia Pet

Pussycat

2007-01-10T20:36:00.000-05:00

So I bought myself a handy digital camera for Christmas. You'd think I would take photographs of my family and friends. Nope, I took photos of my darling Tiki - she is our cat that lives back home with my folks. Oh, how I miss that furry little face.

This is the first picture I took of her. She looks like a little supermodel here, all skinny and stuff:

She usually doesn't look this grumpy:

I think she is mad at me now:

But my favourite...looking like a purrfect Turkey Angel at Christmas(and yet still disgruntled):

Tags: Animals, Cats, Pets, Tuxedo Cats

Ch-Ch-Chia Pet!

2007-01-09T22:06:00.000-05:00

Yep...I got myself my very own Chia Pet this Christmas from one of my best friends. Little did she know, I have always wanted a Chia Pet. Call me lame, but I like silly little things like this. Anyway, it's been days since I started this project (if you can call it that). My Chia Hippo has yet to grow a fine coat of chia herb. Sigh. I think Chia Hippo is in cahoots with my supposed bonsai "tree" which looks like a small weed. Also, I bought myself a digital camera over the holidays so I can take photographs of my exciting, fast-paced life here in Montreal.

Day One~
You are supposed to soak the Chia Hippo planter. I did that. And boy, was I excited to start planting. I soaked him for the suggested 24 hours and then realized that I was supposed to soak the seeds as well. Oops. Chia Hippo soaked for 48 hours instead. I think he enjoyed his bath.

Awww... isn't he cute?

Tags: Chia Pet

Update

2007-01-09T20:45:00.000-05:00

Another year has come and gone. This year I will be turning the so-called “big three-o”. Good grief. Sometimes I wonder how last year slipped past me so quickly, let alone thirty of ‘em. Age is only a number, right? I’ll be saying that to the hunky and young pool boy when I’m 80, heh. That and then, “get off my lawn”. And by lawn, I mean….

Anyway, I am not here to complain about my age or appear reflective (also known as panicky) on the last year or last thirty. I’m just here to catch up with you all. Make yourself a hi-ball of gin and tonic or a frothy mug of hot chocolate and get comfortable.

I know I have been a stranger lately. Lately is certainly an understatement, I suppose. There are unanswered emails and tardy responses. Sincerely, I hope no one is offended at me. At least it is cutting down my list of friends on myspace! Truth be told, I simply do not feel like being online. I don’t feel like wasting time – there are much better things to waste time with and I should know - I’m a constant waster of time! I don’t feel like being frustrated with the errors of myspace. I don’t feel like tearing out my hair every time myspace eats a blog. I don’t feel like wasting away reading the same bulletins written by different people, the tired out surveys and the demands on me to look at their new pics. Don’t get me wrong. I will read them if they are written by people I actually consider friends or interesting strangers, I will look over your new photographs and smile. The point is if I’m going to waste time, let it be with something that I actually enjoy. It may be a long handwritten letter or a well planned out hearty meal, a long distance phone call or curled up with a good book. It’s just a better way to waste time and there are less unexpected errors. And let’s face it. The last thing I really wish to do after a long day of work is to sit in front of another computer.

Work has been fine and I am on our Christmas break as we speak (or as you read). It was very hectic and draining the month or so. I’m at my old market research job but in a new position. I knew about this position for a long time. It was hard to keep quiet about it. Now, I’m what you call a listener. Quality control, if you will. Still, I do interviews when needed and necessary. It’s been a very good experience so far and I am sure it will continue to do so. When I first found out about this position, I was afraid that I was not strong enough to stand up to people who are doing things wrong and help them correct themselves. I still feel that pinch of nervousness and doubt. I try my best through and I believe that they are relatively pleased with my work thus far. I feel much more open and outspoken at work. I have my weak moments but I’m becoming much more comfortable to stand up for myself and more aggressive. It’s what I needed. Besides learning how to be more aggressive, I have discovered that I have absolutely no tolerance for most people under 25 nowadays. Anyway, it’s been interesting. What has been super cool is that my boss, amongst others in the office, has been very encouraging to me with my attempt (or lack thereof) to learn French. They will speak to me in French and then translate. I am comfortable asking them what something means in French or how to say it.

In November, we moved into a new apartment. Whew, at last! This has been such a relief, to say the least. The place is much larger, much cleaner, and very quiet compared to the last place. There are no mice! There is no waterfall coming out of our ceiling – knock on wood. Our neighbors are relatively quiet. I feel a bizarre sense of satisfaction when I clean because it actually looks clean. It has been a very good change for the both of us. There seems to be a sense of calm now between us. Perhaps it is the space we now have. Not only do we have space, we have light! We have a better view out of living room window as opposed to a brick wall and rotting garbage. The other day I sat on the couch and just wrote. I felt so peaceful and at home. It is a good feeling to have. It feels like a home. The other place didn’t have that true feeling.

A few days before I flew home for my annual Christmas visit, I fell ill. I don’t know if ill is the right word because I still don’t know what is wrong. One evening after work, I was walking home with my co-worker. I was feeling fine all day, maybe drank a little too much coffee than normal on an empty stomach. In the middle of a stride, I felt strangely lightheaded. Not my normal, I-need-to-eat-on-time dizziness. It was something else. I steadied myself against my co-worker and walked slowly to the metro. This feeling lingered for a few days and I couldn’t put my finger on it – could it be an inner ear thing or an eye thing? Vertigo? Low iron or blood sugar or blood pressure? Funny enough, I only feel this way when I am in public and there is a lot of motion around me in my peripheral vision. Usually, that is. The more aware I am of it, the worse it gets. Seeing the metro zoom past me makes me lightheaded. Walking in the grocery store where there are tall shelves of packages as people walk by and where there are colorful tiles beneath my feet makes me feel off. It is a very unsettling and uncomfortable feeling. I went to see the walk-in clinic doctor when I was back home and he checked the basic things – ears, eyes, mouth, blood pressure. Everything looked fine, he said. He had a very sincere look in his eye when he told me to promise I see a doctor when I got back to Montreal. Also, he said that it sounds like anxiety to him. I always knew I leaned towards the anxious and nervous side. I just never wanted to hear it said by a doctor. He gave me a very small prescription of Ataman to take when needed. I took one to see if I would experience any side effects. I didn’t want to take my first one in public and find myself passed out on a mall bench, as bums pick through my pockets. Or worse, have the side effect of explosive diarrhea. Thankfully, I just took a lovely journey to a town called Sleepyville. I began to feel better in the middle of my trip and it was only a couple of days ago where I felt like this again. It feels like being on a plane when you are ascending and descending. It’s a weird, another world type of feeling. I found myself a doctor taking new patients very close to our place and hopefully I will know more this week. Wish me luck. I am trying not to worry about this because I realize it will only make me feel worse. Sigh!

As for my trip home, it was great but flew by too quickly. Christmas is always a funny time of year to visit. I never get to see the amount of old friends I wish to see. Everybody, including myself, is busy with family. People are saving up their money for New Year’s Eve celebrations. They are wrapping up work and getting together with their other sets of old friends in from out of town. I can only understand and make the most of it. Once again, I wasn’t feeling that great so I didn’t want to exert myself with many social activities, like going out to a bar or what have you. I did get to see a handful of friends and catch up though. There was a great little Christmas party, lunch with old friends, late evening coffee sessions. A day of shopping in the not-so-crowded mall. Hanging out at friends’ houses. Sitting around in my mom’s kitchen, chatting with those who stopped by for a minute. I walked through the village one afternoon with a friend, stopping by the shops that I used to browse in. On my last night, we had drinks in a local drinking hole. Nothing fancy about the bar but it was being with my old friends that made the evening special. It is often a bittersweet feeling.

The best part about going home is seeing my family. I miss them more and more, each time I walk away to board that plane back to Montreal. Even if I see them on every single day of my visit, it doesn’t feel like enough time! I had a little more time with my sister this time around and we even had a little sleepover at her place. We spent the entire day in pajamas, playing video games. When was the last time we did that!? Probably when Colecovision was the hottest must-have toy for Christmas. I got to spend a lot of time with parents and my grandmother as well. I regret not seeing my brother-in-law as much as I could have – we totally have a bowl of boozed up punch with our names written all over it, as we gang up on my sister with sarcastic comments and jokes. And last but not least, Tiki. I spent so much time playing with my cat. That sounds dirty, heh. I missed my beautiful little kitty cat sooo much. What an angel. I taught her a few more tricks (for example, attacking my leg) and she thoroughly enjoyed her new cat toy I gave her. Those with animals – always give daily thanks for that furry little face that brightens up your every day. As least I have my new neighbor’s cats (as well as the strays they feed) to make me smile. I’ll have to take a photograph of their cat. I call it the “big white cat with the small white head”.

Sometimes it is hard being away from home. So much can change in a few months, let alone a year or two. Each time I come home, I notice changes in people and changes in myself. As I mentioned, it is a bittersweet feeling. It makes me feel like I am in limbo, in a sense. I don’t have a wide circle of friends here and people are a’changin’ back home. Often, I feel a little left out of the loop with people back home. It’s nobody’s fault, of course. I guess that is what happens when you move away. The best feeling is when you meet up with someone you haven’t seen in a very long time and there have been so many changes. You meet up, you go to some dingy coffee shop, and it’s like you have never left – it’s like you just hung out with that friend only a few days ago and are laughing at the same old things again. I like that familiar feeling, like no time has passed whatsoever.

So now I am back in Montreal and the days have been lazy. I have been writing everyday in my journal. I have been tending to my new Chia pet. I have been reading. I have been learning new knitting techniques (don’t expect a sweater soon). Out of sheer curiosity, I have been watching Ultimate Fighting events. I have even made cinnamon buns from scratch! I’m sort of anxious to get back to work but not really, to be honest. I like work, I like making money – but I want to take care of this dizziness thing before it gets the best of me. I want to be able to venture out on my own without the fear that I will black out one the metro or in a crowded shopping center.

I am turning 30 years old come February. Yarg! It seems wrong not to celebrate this age (as I write this, I am mildly cringing) without the people that I grew up with, from childhood through to high school. If I was loaded with cash, I’d fly out a few old friends for a weekend of boozy celebrations. Sigh…I can dream, can’t I?!

Tags - Christmas, Dizziness, Family, Friends, Health, Life

Wet and Wild

2006-11-01T19:45:00.000-05:00

As some jerk once said, when it rains – it pours. This should be the motto of our current apartment that we will soon be moving out of. Thank goodness for that, since our apartment has been equivalent to a house made out of cards. Piece by piece, it is truly falling apart.

It never fails. Something retarded must happen when my partner is on the road. It seems to be some sort of unwritten law. If it isn't a mouse seeking shelter in our stove top (which was the source of Friday night's emotional meltdown), it's something else. And that something was presented to me on Sunday afternoon.

In anticipation of my partner arriving, I took the time to dress up for him. I wasn't feeling that great about myself earlier in the weekend so I figured I would doll myself up for his arrival. I put on this tight and low cut shirt, a black skirt, and knee high argyle socks – saucy, mais oui!? I was doing the dishes in this outfit because I hate doing housework. The way I see it, if I'm going to do some redundant chores I might as well sauce it up a bit. You all should try it sometime. Nothing beats making a bed while wearing a very short skirt or vigorously scrubbing a bathtub in a boobtastically low cut shirt. Anyway, that's beside the point. So here I was, vigorously scrubbing dirty dishes in the sink. I have some good music blasting in the background. I feel good. I feel sexy. Soon, my man will be home and I'll be all over him like white on rice.

I hear a noise.

It's a kind of snapping noise. I turn off the water and stop cleaning the dishes. My first thought was fire. I'm morbid like that. I peek my head around the corner. There's fucking water pouring from the light fixture in the hallway. Fuck me. I'm pretty indecisive when it comes to first reactions but I kicked into gear, while profusely swearing. I'm grabbing buckets. I'm putting on my shoes because I don't want to get electrocuted. I'm running upstairs to pound on our stupid neighbor's door. There's no answer. I call all the numbers in our phone book – the landlord ("mailbox is full, goodbye"), a caretaker (who says he has nothing to do with this building), and the so-called handyman (number is disconnected). I call my in-laws and they tell me to call for emergency, which I did. By now, it is a waterfall pouring from my ceiling. Great.

I ran around the place, moving guitars and trying to remove all the vinyl we have in that area. There is a lot of vinyl and water is streaming on top of me. Within minutes, the firemen came to my rescue. Thank God. I have to admit, they did look very amused. Of course, they were concerned at the fire hazard this posed and at the stuff that was quickly being damaged. But here I was, all dressed up and nowhere to go but tend to a big messy disaster happening in my apartment as water dripped all over my cleavage. Hey, at least they got a smile out of it.

In a few more minutes, my father-in-law showed up to keep me calm and assess the damage. I was glad for the company, that's for sure. We were both glad that my partner wasn't home just yet because he would have seriously strangled the upstairs neighbor. Let's just say, they are not the sharpest tools in the shed. If they are not leaving the doors open for cracked out bums to squat in our building, they are playing their loud art-rock crap to keep us up at night. An unnoticed water tank leak doesn't surprise me in the least. About ten or fifteen minutes into the domestic waterfall, one neighbor came home to see her door busted down and probably a lake in her apartment. Her first reaction – a hearty laugh. A hearty laugh? Jesus Christ! Who finds this funny? When our water heater busted earlier this year, I didn't bust a gut. I think it took her a good hour and change before she realized her vinyl was ruined to which she bellowed a hearty "like, oh my god?"

And then my partner came home, earlier than we expected. I wanted him to come home to de-stress from being on the road. I wanted to make him some tea, have a nice dinner, and have a long hot shower. Nope, he came home to this – firemen walking through our house, the electricity shut off, a lake in our hallway, and the dumb laughter of our idiotic neighbors. He was obviously instantly irritated, to say the least.

Eventually, the landlord and his minion, the "handyman", arrived at the scene. I wanted to punch the landlord in the neck because he walked up the stairs with this shit eating grin on his smug little face. Hell, what does he care? They have never cared about the concerns of their tenants in the first place, whether it is a shit load of water pouring from our ceiling or waist deep rotting garbage filling up our fire escape. They simply do not give a shit. There was a slightly heated argument between the boys. I avoided that scene; I was already stressed out as it was. The handyman looked at our apartment because he was apparently there to fix something – which he didn't. He was trying to turn on the breaker in our apartment but we barked at him to stop. The firemen told me specifically to not turn on the electricity for a good day so that the ceiling and what have you can dry out. But no, the half-wit handyman is pawing at our breakers and saying it should be no problem. There was so much dumbassery from our landlord, the "handyman", and neighbors – it wasn't even funny. And then they were asking me, why didn't I call them? Why didn't I let them know before the firemen came to knock down their door? Fuck you! I have water pouring from MY ceiling and out of a light fixture, no less. And you want me to sit there and wait for them to pick up their phone? Yeah, like that's going to happen. These are the same people that told us that there were no hot water tank repairmen to fix our water tank when it sprung a leak. In the entire city, no one was available. You know, except for the one we called ourselves. Lazy bastards.

Needless to say, we are living in chaos at the moment. I'm glad that we didn't have too many of our precious possessions ruined. And I am truly glad that we have finally have the keys to our new place and we can get out of this shit hole at last.

My Halloween Costume - An Insecure Girl

2006-10-28T19:41:00.000-04:00

I used to love Halloween. I still love it. I feel as though my level of enthusiasm is dwindling though. I feel my level of enthusiasm is dwindling on a lot of little things recently. I suppose you can say that I am in a bit of a funk to say the least. I am not going out this Halloween. I didn’t go out last year either. This, I admit, saddens me.

Back home, it’s always “back home…”, I used to do it up right. Sure, I never had a concrete plan for my costume. I rushed around just like everyone else, putting my costume together at the last minute. I always came up with something, whether it was good or not. The last costume I wore for Halloween back home was Rosie the Riveter – the “You can do it!” poster girl. Some thought I was a mechanic. One customer at work thought I was a farmer. The frustrated but dirty minded business men, the majority of my customers at the store, thought I was plain ol’ sexy. My last costume here was Vampira. Basically, I looked like myself with more extreme eyebrows and a little more pale than normal. Still, it was all in good fun.

Now, my costume is a pair of pajamas on a Saturday night and bed-head hair. Oh, and a little patch of stress induced acne on my face. I am alone and I can’t shake this stupid sense of blue.

I have been feeling so far from sexy lately. I don’t have the greatest skin and I thought it was something that I worked through. I thought I accepted it. I know I did back home. Regardless of the scars on my face and the few nasty break outs, I still had people complimenting me and appreciating my beauty. I know I shouldn’t rely on the observations of strangers. It shouldn’t constitute my mood. If I am simply not happy with myself, no amount of compliments and sly glances will make me be that constant and happy person. But here in this city, I don’t see it. Have I built a wall so thick that no one can see me at my best? My partner does and that’s what truly matters. He sees me for my beauty. He loves me. He doesn’t care if my face looks like hell. He doesn’t care if I lounge around a little too long in my clothing that eventually looks like pajamas on my body. The others, those random strangers, see nothing. I have lived here for two and a half years and only caught two strangers checking me out. It’s not like I want people to ogle me every moment of the day. I don’t. I get the other side of the stick. Call me paranoid, but I see the way a lot of people look at me when I am on the subway or walking down the street. They look at me like I am ugly. They look at my short painted nails. They see how tired I look. They notice the quality of my skin. They see my skin. I know they do this. I have been laughed at on the subway in the past. Sure, they were kids and kids will always be jerks. Once, I heard someone say that it isn’t my fault that I am so ugly and I was paralyzed. I couldn’t turn around like I wanted to and say fuck you. Fuck you in your stretch jeans and fuck you in your retro 80’s look and fuck you with your boyfriend in his saggy assed jeans. Fuck you. I got off at my stop and shut down. I walked to work with tears in my eyes. What feels worse – to be called ugly practically to your face or to be silenced by the ignorance of teenagers?

It’s been a long time since I completely dolled myself up. It’s been a much longer time since I dolled myself up in new clothes. I haven’t been shopping in ages. I am very reserved with money because I don’t make much. I don’t know how long my job will last and we have to eat. I have to pay my bills. I can’t be carefree with my money like before – have I ever been carefree with it anyway? If something happens with my work situation, I can’t rely on anyone else. My partner is a musician. I’m glad he is doing what he loves but I worry. Overall, I am glad he is doing what he loves rather than making tons of cash while being absolutely miserable. I’m envious of that, I admit.

I want to be taken out and I want to wear that dress. You know that dress that stops you dead in your tracks as a mumbled “wow” spills from your mouth. I want to be lusted after. I want to walk into a room with that dress and have my partner drop his jaw. I want to beam and light up that room. It just seems that I don’t have that in me lately. I feel plain and invisible. My skin looks like hell. My options of doing my hair consists of wearing it in a pony tail or not (at least my bangs look good still). My clothing is all old. I am uptight. I can’t be comfortable and tell me when I had my last true belly laugh with a friend here? Tell me when I laughed so hard I had tears coming out of my eyes with a friend here? Tell me when I talked so comfortably with a near stranger with that certain openness? Let’s just say, it’s been a hell of a long time.

I want flowers.

I know all of this probably sounds pretty awful of me. I have a great partner who makes me feel loved and beautiful no matter what. God, he even puts up with all my wacko emotions. I’m very grateful for him. He thinks the world of me. I’m just not happy with myself and I’ve always been like this. For the life of me, I don’t know how to get over this mountain of insecurity I build for myself.

I have distanced myself from a lot of things here. I know it’s my own fault. I know I should have learned French by now. Knowing French would probably make things a lot less uncomfortable and awkward for me. It’s been two years and who can I call a true friend here? It seems like whenever I meet another women that I feel I connect with, something stupid and dramatic happens and I am just back to being acquaintances with them. I’m lonely. It sounds pathetic but it’s true.

I feel like it has been a long time since I could say I had an amazing night. I can’t seem to let loose here. I’m so bloody reserved, it makes me sick. I feel a tug of envy when I go to these shows and see everyone having a blast. Everyone is drunk and everyone is laughing and here I am – stuck in the middle of it all, trying to smile naturally. I hear about how great nights were, how much fun was had by all. When was my last great night, surrounded by friends and laughs and drinks and smartassery? I can’t let loose here. Back home, I was on fire. I went dancing and I had a circle of friends. I ogled women with my guy friends. I got ready with my girlfriends for a night of painting the town red. I had my set of private jokes with close friends. I had a sister nearby to console me if my world was falling apart or if I needed someone to annoy like only a little sister can do. We recently had a friend stay here from a far away city. I found myself talking to her and saw her zone out. Am I this boring? Do people no longer get serious conversation? I felt awkward yet again. I felt I still had nothing interesting to say. I feel so one dimensional lately. I make small talk and jokes at work and no one gets it (except my “team leader”).

Is this the difference between the English and French in humourous conversation? You don’t realize how lonely it is actually is when you live in a place that is difficult to make the simplest of small talk and passing jokes. Some days, I just want to make a random comment or compliment to a stranger and I hold back. City folk are different here, busy and rushed. And it is the language barrier. I used to loathe small talk and all those hellos from strangers downtown. Now, I long for it. I sit on the same subway car every morning, with the same people. There are no smiles of recognition. Back home, we’d call each other intimate strangers by now. I remember the first time a stranger here made small talk with me in the grocery store. I could have given him the biggest hug for those brief words. It was about soup and tofu but it made my week. I existed in this random city, this random grocery store. He took a minute out of his day to be friendly to another stranger. I truly appreciate his gesture. It made me very happy and his soup suggestion was a fantastic one at that!

Everything is layering up on me yet I am still so cold.

Tags:
Depression,Halloween,Insecurity,Loneliness, Sadness,Strangers,Ugliness

The Official Mouse Breakdown

2006-10-28T14:40:00.000-04:00

I should be writing about something fun and sexy. I should be confessing a juicy bit or two about that time I drunkenly made out with one of my girlfriends or describing to you that panty shopping extravaganza. You know something giggly and girly - something flirty and foxy. But no...I'm still dealing with Mr. Jingles here and it's honestly putting my mood off. I must admit, however, my mood was put off days ago. Maybe it is the arrival of shorter days and the winter. The mouse in my house just gives me that last straw, that reason to have a big ol' messy breakdown in the middle of my kitchen.

If you read my last post, I wrote about the discovery of a mouse in my apartment. Clearly, this mouse is taunting me. The mouse only seems to grace my presence. It never comes out when my boyfriend is home. And this, I fear, makes me look crazy! Oh no, it stays wherever he set up camp. The boyfriend leaves the room and I enter that same room - and there it is. Taunting me, laughing its mousy laugh. Of course, it somewhat behaves itself when my partner is home and that's fine. He goes away for the weekend and let the fun and games begin. Great.

Last night, I was talking on the phone to a friend and saw it skedaddle across the counter, jump behind the fridge, and run under the washing machine. I let out this stupidly girly squeal on the phone. I can handle it running across the floor for dropped crumbs or what have you. I can almost handle that. Once it starts crawling on the counter...that's another story. I stood there and thought what the fuck am I doing wrong here? I clean up, I keep the counters clean, and all food is kept well packed and away. It's still running across my fucking counter and I have absolutely no heart to go out and buy a mouse trap. Oh, I can buy the mouse trap but I don't want to see or deal with a dead mouse carcass. That is NOT in my job description.

I clean up the kitchen again. I wipe the counters down again. I sit down to smoke a cigarette. I decide to touch up my nail polish. I walk into the kitchen to grab the bottle of polish and look! The fucker is on the counter again and disappears INTO THE STOVE ELEMENT! And then I had my mental breakdown.

Like I said, I can handle if it was just running across the floor. No, it's not my idea of fun but I don't prepare food on the floor. Now, this little rodent is not only running across my counter but is pooping in my oven. Pooping my oven! My eyes fill with stupid tears. I call my mom.

I love my mom but sometimes she can be a little morbid. I whine to her about my mouse problem and how it went into the stove and all I want is her to say that everything is going to be okay. I want to be coddled. Just for once, coddle me. Anyone, please. I am surrounded by realists. Tell me that I'm good and everything will be okay and that I'm loved and I have not much to worry about. Nope, I don't get that - well...only from my sister - thank God for her. Mom tells me to hit it. Kill it with a pan, she says. Chase it out the house with a broom and kill it. Poison cheese with bleach. She goes on and on about the different ways to kill this pest while my dad is piping in the background with a hearty "kill it with a flyswatter! kill it with a fly swatter!” And to make matters worse, she tells me that mice can chew wires and I should watch out. This very mouse can set my apartment on fire. Thanks, mom. She tells me I should do this and that, clean out the stove as well. And then it dawned on me, I'm turning 30 soon and I don't even know how to clean out my oven - let alone deal with mice on my own.

And then I called my sister and cried like a baby. Not only am I getting old; I'm living in an apartment with a mouse problem that only is a visible problem when I am home alone, I don't even know how to clean my oven, and I'm going to wake up to a blazing fire in my apartment. And worst of all? I have been feeling very lonely these last few days. I don't have anyone to call up and vent to in this city. And it's probably my own damned fault.

I suppose this entire mouse thing is the last straw. I know this funk I am in is not all about the mouse. Bah, crying while I write a blog makes me feel fifteen years old.

I haven't taken care of the mouse. I put bowls and pot lids over the elements. Mom suggested sprinkling laundry detergent around the place it always seems to hide away to. I haven't seen it since. Yeah, I know it's avoiding the problem. I don't want to use the oven or the stove. I don't want to even use the toaster. Was it lounging around in there too? Have I been cooking and baking my food with mouse dropping nearby? I'm sorry, but that's fucking gross. I guess I should be a bit grateful - I haven't seen multiple mice, the droppings on the floor/counter have been very minimal, and my apartment hasn't started on fire yet.

Thank GOD we are moving out soon. Thank GOD we are getting a new stove that doesn't have the standard elements. Thank GOD that our new place isn't surrounded by idiots - landlords and tenants, who think it is okay to pile waist deep garbage in the fire escape and leave the doors open for mice and cracked out squatters. I can't wait to get out of here.

I just need a little help. Help with packing. Help with the mouse. I feel I am doing all of this on my own. I'm tired of being alone.

Tags:
Domestic,Loneliness,Mice,Mouse,Sad

Mouse in the House

2006-10-22T17:54:00.000-04:00

Why does all the stupid stuff happen when my partner is on the road? I suppose I shouldn't fret. I shouldn't be so nervous. Nothing broke down like that one time he went on the road in the middle of the winter and the washing machine backfired ice cold water all over the kitchen floor. The only thing that happened this summer was the discovery of fucking maggots in the garbage can and I swear - that traumatized me.

This morning I awoke to the sounds of something eating something. Nothing loud and that concerning. I have a tendancy to worry about every single thing so I brushed it off and labeled it as sleepy paranoia. I got up, went into the living room, and heard another slight gnawing noise. Shit. And then I grabbed the baseball bat. I'd hate to see how I'd react if a person broke into the apartment if I am arming myself with a bat when I fear the presense of a damned mouse.

I stood there in my pajamas and armed with a wooden bat. No, I wasn't going to kill the creature. I don't have that in me. Hell, I haven't even cooked meat since junior high home-ec class. I stood there and listened to the noise. Is it coming from under the stove? I poked the stove with my bat. Silence. What would I do with a home intruder? Tickle him with a knife? From under the stove wandered a little but replusive moisture bug. Nope, no fan of bugs. I took my partner's boot and killed him. I can kill bugs if need be. So I walked away and heard the gnawing noise again. Once again, I stood there and listened. We have this space where a dishwasher would go. There we have this plastic storage containers, beer bottles to be returned, and some flattened cardboard packaging. I poked the bat at the plastic containers and something ran past my feet. I like to imagine that I was dressed like some sassy 50's housewife in heels and a saucy house dress and I jumped on the table like a defenseless female. Instead, I slammed the bat down onto the floor ten times and squished the mouse into a bloody pulp as I screamed in my best Samuel L. Jackson voice, "I will have no motherfucking mouse in my motherfucking house!".

Actually, no. I stood there in my wrinkled pajamas and weakly held the bat in my hands. And then I mumbled something about this not being in my domestic job description - this is HIS job, not mine. And then I felt sick to my stomach.

No, I'm not scared of the mouse. I know it's scared of me. I feel I have some sort of domestic reputation to uphold. Does having a mouse guest mean your house is a complete mess? I think my worst enemy in cases like this is my vivid imagination. I don't picture one little hungry mouse. I picture mouse babies and hundreds of them. I picture this disgruntled rat the size of a small dog, living behind my fridge and picking food out of his teeth with a toothpick. Talking like a mobster in a New York accent. Smoking a cigar, after attacking my jugular vein in the middle of night. Why does this affect me more than the raccoon that decided to visit our kitchen in the summer?

Only a few more weeks and we'll be out of this place. Only a few more hours and he will be home. He can get reacquainted with Mr. Jingles when I'm at work tomorrow.

Tags:
House, Mice, Mouse, Rats, Rodents

Reading in Bed

2006-10-18T23:18:00.000-04:00

I read to you in bed,
the sheets pulled over our shivering bodies
that were otherwise naked.
Serenity in your smile and
peace in your eyes,
you taught me how to say superfluous
and I discovered just how beautiful you truly are.

As I read those words
my hungry voice wanted to confess -
Your beauty is something else,
something valued in my amazement
and something I have never witnessed.
The distance between us revealing
that I never wish to take for granted
your breath on my skin.
It warms me more than you will ever know.

I placed the book gently on your bedroom floor
amongst our scattered clothing
that fell from nights before.
I fell into you once again,
I fell into something that moves me.
Your face that shines before me
tells me I will never grow tired of discovering
Just how beautiful you truly are.

Death of a Childhood Pet

2006-10-14T21:41:00.000-04:00

A few weekends ago, my big handsome orange cat passed away. He was my grandmother's cat and he was 21 years of age. I knew my beautiful orange beast would have to leave eventually. Afterall, 21 years is a long time for a cat to live.

What I did not want to experience, perhaps selfishly, was that part of childhood departing along with him. The moment I heard he passed away, I felt just a little bit older. I cried.

I'm a cat person. I used to idolize Winnipeg's infamous "cat lady" when I was a child. When I got a little bit older, I laughed about looking forward to becoming a bingo playing baba with too much lipstick (running into my lip wrinkles) and rouge, a chain smoking habit, and living with thirty cats in lieu of a hubby. And then I fell in love with an allergic-to-cats man.

I lost my own childhood cat a few years back. She was sixteen and I grew up with her. She was my fiesty little calico angel, who adored to torment the majority of my friends with frightening growls and vicious claws. Often, we would share a good laugh and high five together after my friends went home. Once upon a time, I thought the end of a relationship was tragically difficult. And then I lost my childhood pet. Now that is true heartbreak - to say goodbye to someone who never honestly done you harm, someone who made you smile by simply curling up on warm laundry or chasing a toy, someone who loved you unconditionally. True heartbreak, I tell you, when you come home after a long day of work and there is no furry little face looking up at your with sheer innocence.

I had a special bond with my big handsome orange cat, I like to believe. He was born in my backyard when I was 8 or 9 years old. He was the calmest of the four kittens. A small bundle of orange fur. The other kittens, they eventually found their own homes. This fluffy orange kitten ended up at my grandmother's and became somewhat of a barn cat.

Maybe I didn't have a connection with him. Maybe I just like to think we did. He trusted me enough to cradle him like a baby - even though he was a macho and masculine cat, a fierce hunter of birds and chipmunks. He would wait for me in the yard. In his older years and in the winter, he would remain in his little barn but poke his head out of his small cardboard box house which was stuffed full of woolen blankets. His coat was massive, covered with a thick mat of clumped fur which would eventually be trimmed off by my uncle come spring. No matter what, my big handsome orange cat would greet me with a happy meow. In the summer, he would come out and hop on this old school desk outside that was weathered with age. I would sit beside him and give him his well deserved affectionate petting.

When I was about eleven or twelve years old, he went missing for a good year or so. He wasn't one to stray, considering he had a large yard to explore. We had our suspicions to why and how he would go missing. One afternoon and quite the distance from my grandmother's house, my sister and I took my younger cousins from out of town to the park to play. Lo and behold, there was my big handsome orange cat sitting contently in the grass. It was him! I was so happy to hold him again. I was convinced it was him and we promptly took him back to my grandmother's yard, his home. Sometimes I wonder if it was really him or perhaps I simply abducted another cat. Ah, I do not regret my actions. I was convinced it was him and I found him. He never left home again.

Like most cats before they pass on, they don't feel well and barely eat. According to my family, he took one last walk around the yard and was later found in the bushes. He may not have been the prettiest cat, with a luxurious coat. He may have walked with hobble and had ragged ears from the winter's frost. He may have had a drooling problem. But to me, he was the most handsome big orange cat in the world.

Though I was sick my entire visit back home this summer, I got to say goodbye to him. I sat in the grass beside him, as he played with my sister with a long piece of grass. He meowed. I gave him a big hug and rubbed his kitty cat tummy. I called him my big handsome man cat and said goodbye. I knew it could be our last cuddle, our last exchange of adoring words and kitty cat purrs.

I'm gonna miss you, handsome one!

Tags:
Animals, Cats, Childhood Pet, Childhood, Death, Death of a Childhood Pet, Pets

Life...and Death

2006-10-11T21:34:00.000-04:00

You could say I've been on hiatus, just like your favourite television shows during the summer. There seems to be a lot of little news these days. A lot of little events. I should have been a lot less lazy but in all honesty - I just don't feel like sitting in front of the computer. Don't y'all worry now, I've been reasonably happy and life is good. Rest assured.

In a nutshell and a quick blurb about the last little while -
I went home for a two week visit in August. During said visit, I got a nasty headcold and it kicked my ass. It lingered and turned into a bleeding ear infection. And when I say "bleeding", I mean actual blood. I didn't see as many people as I would have liked to but I saw the light on a particular matter. I came back here, only to stress out about money. When I stress out, I become paralyzed and accomplish very little. Once that calmed down, I got a job. It's only temporary, it's full of team spirit, and I have to wake up at six in the morning. I may live most days as a character of Dawn of the Dead as I stumble to the metro, but it's paying my bills. As well, we have found a new place to live. We will be finally moving out of this little apartment in a few weeks. The building is nice and clean, there's plenty of room, and it's in the same neighbourhood but on a better side. It is very much a home. I anticipate decorating. I dread packing. In this very same nutshell, my grandmother's cat died. I will write a longer blog about this because I literally grew up with this beast of a cat. He was 21 years of age and I called him "my handsome cat". Sigh. I had a friend of a friend come to visit - it was nice talking with someone from home. Another friend from the south came to visit us this past weekend. Yeah, this nutshell doesn't sound like much. In lieu of sitting in front of the computer and wasting time, I have been busy in the kitchen with the cooking and the baking. Talking lots to friends, feeling the weight of money stress come off my lovely shoulders, and simply looking forward.

There is a reason I wanted to write tonight, however.

I found out the other morning that someone I knew of passed away in his sleep. Now, I'm not going to be an asshole and say I knew him, that we were buddies. Too many people do that when someone passes away and I cringe at the thought of being that brand of phony. Simply, he was my body piercer from years ago. He was my friend on myspace and we exchanged a few short comments a while back. Though I did not know him very well whatsoever, it came as a saddened surprise to hear this. What I did know of him was that he was kind and friendly. He put you at ease when you were in his presense and getting pierced. He was the definition of professional. He seemed truly genuine and I am certain that he will be missed by many.

Forgive me if I sound preachy. It is sad that these kind of stupid life occurances (that don't seem fair) solidly remind us that we should never go to bed angry at our partner or our parents - or hold silly grudges over silly issues with friends or family. Man, life is too short as it is. Let go of all those small things that line our breathe with petty bitterness or catty jealousies. Let go of that late night squabble about something unbelievably forgetable. Walk away from those that pull you down in their shitty little world and be there for yourself, be there for the people that truly appreciate you.

And never forget to tell that person that you love them. Or that you appreciate them. Or a thank you for being such a wonderful mother or father or sister or brother-in-law or friend.

...more blogs to come, promise!...




Tags:
Death, Life, Love, Relationships

The Anxiety of Flying

2006-08-13T15:03:00.000-04:00

Forgive me for my absence. I've been busy being lazy with my love, since he came back from tour. It's been nice. There is this incredible dreaminess that surrounds us. A brilliant honeymoon vibe that only comes with time between you and your lover. It's been pouncetastic! The only sad thing is is that I am the one leaving in a few days and for a few weeks. I hate leaving, even if it's only temporary.

It's not like I am that dependant on my partner. Sincerely, I adore being around him. I like knowing he is in the other room, while I am curled up in bed and reading a book. I enjoy bringing him green tea in the middle of the afternoon.

Ever since the beginning of our relationship, I have been full of guilt. We had a long distance relationship and that's tough. You have your life back home and he has his own life. You have to work to bring it together, if you are really serious about it. In the middle of all that working to bring it together - there is a whole lot of time apart. You wait for months to be together and it feels so painfully long. You finally get to see each other and the time sadly flies. I hated parting at the airport - I used to find that incredibly romantic until I was serious about someone - because I felt low for leaving him, for convincing him a long distance relationship can work. I'm glad he believed me because it has worked. Now, we're an old couple!

Now, I am far from family and friends. I feel guilty that I have abandoned them, even after two years. I feel guilty to not visit as much as I like to. I feel guilty that they are paying for my flight. Once I arrive, I'm fine. I'm happy and a little overwhelmed to be home. But I end up feeling guilty for leaving my partner. He understands, this is my home and I have to see family. I still feel incredibly bad for leaving him. When I leave home to go back to my partner, I feel guilty for abandoning my family again. What the hell is wrong with me!? I'm just a tense ball of guilt!

Flying scares me now. I fear something would happen between Home A and Home B. Along with my feelings of guilt, come truly grim and gloomy thoughts of disaster. Can I ever allow myself to relax? Chances are, nope! Now, there are restrictions on travel. I can abide by them with slight annoyance. Every time I fly, I have to remove my belt and shoes. My carry-on is constantly being pawed at. I'm glad safety is up and the airports are taking extra precautions. I have to say, banning liquids kind of pisses me off. Like I said, I am happy to abide by the rules. It's annoying that it's come to this point. It's sad that that small child cannot take his or her bottle of juice on the plane, just because some asshole has no problem with blowing up buildings with bombs attached to their own kids. I'm at this point where I just don't fucking care anymore. These people are more than welcome to blow up themselves and others in their OWN country. I'm not talking the country that they immigrated to either. Okay, I'll just say it already - in the middle east. I just don't care. This is getting personal - they are now fucking around with my beauty routine. I can no longer bring a tube of lipstick on a plane because of these fucking assholes. And if the airport goes through my checked bags and throw out my $50 bottle of Biotherm Source Therapie, I'm going to be pissed. If any of my expensive cosmetics melt or are destroyed or thrown out - I'm going to declare war.

In all seriousness, I will abide by the rules. It sucks but it's a minor inconvenience. It's to make our country safer. The sad thing is what's next?

I used to love to fly but it fills me with severe panic now and I can't even bring my homeopathic remedies on board to calm me down.

Tags: Airport Security, Long Distance Relationships, Love, Relationships

He Won!

2006-08-03T14:46:00.000-04:00

Late Monday night, my partner returned home! Good grief, what a lengthy time apart! Needless to say, I am glad that he is around again. I was on pins and needles all night. It felt like we were dating again and it was all shiny new. I got all prettied up, even though he was scheduled to arrive in the middle of the night. I didn't care. I just wanted him to see me again, looking fresh and dolled up even though the first thing he wanted to do was take a shower with me. So, at least he saw me dolled up for a good fifteen minutes!

He came home, tired and furry-faced. I kept staring at him, as though I have never seen him before. What a handsome man, he takes my breath away even after three years! We talked for a bit and got him settled in. It was nice to sit and talk with him - and not just over the telephone. Damn, did I ever miss him.

Clearly, he missed me too. We showered together and there were plenty of passionate kisses between us. Even though being apart sucks big time, time apart is often good. It helps you realize that all those little aggravations that come with living with someone are just little meaningless things. You appreciate your partner, with a little time off and space. You are more grateful to have that person in your life. I think it benefited me to have a long distance relationship with him. I like to think that I never take him forgranted, though I'm certain that we all do in some way and at some time or another. I remember how much it sucked to live in two different cities. It wasn't easy but it taught us to value one another and enjoy each other. Even with the simple things, like holding your lover's hand. We certainly enjoyed one another the night he came back from tour. Wink, wink. Knudge, knudge.

I'm glad to say that he won. Aunt Flow lost the race! Yippee! For once, my body worked with me and not against me! We got in some time to get "reacquainted" and the next day I got my period. At least I got a little action before I was stricken with "the curse". Speaking of action, last night we put on some doowop and kissed. I find that kind of music especially fun to make out to. It makes me feel all fuzzy romantic inside. It makes me dizzy and want to kiss and be kissed. Drunk with love - Le sigh!

Yes, everything feels great and back to normal. We've been talking a lot and enjoying each other's company. We have been eating bowls of ice cream between kisses. I mentioned how one day I would like to be called his wife and he didn't run away with sheer terror. Okay, actually I asked to be called his Wife-o. Haha...I love words with an O at the end of them.

The Race is On!

2006-07-31T00:27:00.000-04:00

I told myself no blogging until I get my shit together today. And finally, said shit is together. Here I am, at 11:42pm. It's a little later than I expected and I'm a little less full of piss and vinegar. Hopefully, I will entertain someone out there.

I heard from my partner early in the afternoon. He was calling from a small city about 2 hours west of my hometown. This means the easy part is done. Now comes the hard part - driving through Ontario. It would have been incredibly easier to simply drive through the States but they do not have any proof that they are NOT doing shows there. Otherwise, they would technically need a work permit to cross the border. Instead, they painfully cross the large province of Ontario. I wish them luck but what I really wish is for them to be home...NOW.

You see, the race is on. Yes, they all want to be home. Yes, they all want to see their significant others. However, I am full-on PMS monster. The race is on, bitches! I'm going to get my period anyday and, sweet baby Jesus, I want me some dirty sex. Damned period. I'm not what you call a regular girl. The only thing regular about my cycle is how it always seems to come whenever something relatively special is going on. Fuck you, Aunt Flow, fuck you! *shakes fists to heavens*

I wish I knew exactly when they were arriving, because I'm neurotic that way. The house is tidy. There's food in the house to eat. I will shortly finish watching the "things" I've downloaded and I'm too embarrassed to watch in front of my partner (it may or may not be Big Brother 7 live feeds). Also, I can just see him coming home when I'm taking out the garbage in my pajamas - while, not to mention, being incredibly bloated from PMS. I want him to come home and see the pretty me. Not the bloated whale in unsexy pajamas handling a bag of garbage, haha.

All in all, I am so very happy that he will be home very soon! It's exciting actually. It brings me back to a time when we were doing the whole long distance relationship thing. I feel like that girl of two years ago, getting off the airplane to see her lover again! I'm all giddy inside and elated! My knees are weak! I want to look extra pretty for him (even though I'm sure he thinks I'm always pretty, even in bloated pajama pants)! I just want to give him that long-at-last kiss! My best guess is that he will be home either VERY late Monday night or anytime Tuesday. Sigh...kisses!

The rest of the day flew by. I spent the majority of the day completing my last lesson on my online French course. I need a break. There is too much to remember about past and future tenses, too many verbs. My head is toast. I'm surprised I can write in English here tonight because the French honestly kicked my ass tonight. I don't think I have learned too much but I'm proud that I stuck to it nonetheless. I wasn't too pleased with the Barnes and Noble class anyway.

Other than the French, the rest of my day was great. I lingered at the bookstore, caressing the spines of gently used books. I picked up some groceries in a, believe it or not, relaxing environment. I talked to my plants. I talked to an old friend. I may or may not have done a short and spontanious robot dance to Gnarls Barkley. The sun was shining, the temperature was very comfortable, and old men ogled me in my neighbourhood. I feel sassy! Maybe a little bloated, but definitely sassy!

Perhaps it was the wine and estrogen - I had a couple of girls over last night for a soirée. It's nice to be surrounded by girls, as strange as that sounds. Our apartment is usually full of boys, which would probably appeal to my single girl friends. I'm usually swimming in testosterone and band sweat. It was my first time buying white wine and I ended up with a bottle that had a drawing of a monkey (not a member of the 60s band) eating a banana on the label. It screamed quirky, even though I dislike monkeys. It was also my first time buying a bagette. Does that mean I am now officially a true resident of this city?! Anyway, it was a lovely evening of drinking on the patio and girlish gossip. I look forward to more nights like that before summer is over.

Tags: French, French Lessons, Menstruation, Period, Women

Power Cleaning - A Romance with Mr. Clean

2006-07-29T01:09:00.000-04:00

One of the great things about having the house to myself is that I can freely dance like an idiot and not feel ashamed. Tonight, I slapped on my track pants (or something close to being track pants, I'm just trying to make myself sound gangsta) and threw on a Kanye West cd...and power cleaned. Holla! Usually, I listen to heady depressing music when I'm alone but I figured I'd "raise the roof" *insert Arsenio Hall dog calls and hand motions here* and kick it up a notch. Actually, I just wanted to make sure my power cleaning went quickly instead of listening to mopey music while tragically scrubbing the bathtub.

Yeah. Power cleaned. Everything is sparkly shiny. I think Mr. Clean loves spending Friday night with me. He reassures me that I am not a loser for staying in on a Friday night. So there.

I'm afraid I do not have any witty and captivating cleaning stories, unless you get off on girls who clean in low-cut shirts. Cleavage heaving away, with each and every scrub. Meow! Actually, I guess I got some more lipstick on the bathroom floor somehow. No big surprise, I get lipstick on everything. When I mopped - cleavage heaving, by the way - lipstick was smeared everywhere. Oh, Mr. Clean! Our love affair continues!

The guys are playing in a small city out west tonight. I wish I was there. There have only been two venues that I have been jealous about. Obviously, back home was one of them. Party with my friends, get drunk with my sister. Then, there was tonight. The only reason I want to be there is to meet my close online friend. No fair. I want to drink out of sour cream containers with her. Le sigh. Regardless, I hope they have a fantastic send off to the road home. They are missed and I hope they can return to the city in good spirits. And not wanting to kill one another.

Soon, soon, soon!

I Broke Myspace

2006-07-28T18:47:00.000-04:00

Insert some Europe hair metal band synth here...because it's the final countdown! Oh yeeeah! One more show and then a whole lot of driving - it will be nice to have my partner home again. I received a postcard from him this morning. Sigh, it made my week.

Today, every website I go to is down. Everything I touches no longer turns to crap, but crashes. I think you can no longer blame it on Tom - I'm convinced I broke myspace. Sigh. Actually, I lied. I didn't break myspace. Although, I would really love to give myspace a punch in the neck, given the chance.

I shouldn't be surprised, nor am I in any desperate need to check my myspace. I just wanted to spend Friday catching up on email. I punch in my email and password - oh look! An unexpected error! I punch it in again. And maybe a few more times. It eventually works, right? Well, then I received a bold red message that said I punched in this password too many times and now I must punch in the verification code. Here's the kicker - the verification code wasn't showing up. Thanks, Tom.

Hours later, the code is now appearing but I still cannot log in. Unless I've suddenly become dyslexic this afternoon but the code ain't working worth shit. I don't know how it is to run a major website that's very popular - but the amount of errors and shit becomes really tiring. Somedays, I just want to turn my back to it and press delete.

On a good note, I'm happy to say that I feel much better today! Yay! No more heart attack! I even had a dream last night. I was at a friend's place and she was having a garage sale. She was selling bulk canisters of lime flavoured novelty condoms and a ton of vibrators. I wanted to buy a vibrator, so she showed me how to hook it up. She pretty much put the faux cock onto this power drill body - it was rather intimidating! Still, I bought it.

Not much to report. I spent the afternoon chatting to a friend online, doing French lessons, and coloring my roots. My hair is a major pain in the ass. Let's just say, it's not fun coloring your hair when it reaches down to the middle of your back.

I'm turning into a goddamn hippy.

Tags: Myspace

Brought to you by the letters P, M, S

2006-07-27T18:45:00.000-04:00

So, I think I've had enough of this Tour Widow business. It was fun while it lasted; those sweaty girly sleepovers where we all lounged around in our panties and cooled each other down with ice cubes, those strip poker nights with all my oh so lonely female friends....

(Okay, so that didn't actually happen. I just wanted to impress any male readers.)

But seriously, I've had enough. I want my partner home already. I'm sick of eating for one. I'm annoyed at going to bed alone. I hate having no one to talk to in bed. I haven't had any dreams since he left, probably because I only dream to amuse him in the morning. I loathe this whole having no one to rant to when I have PMS thing. I think this is the first time I have had no one really to lash out on while having PMS! Maybe that is why I feel so ill lately.

Yeah, once again, I am not feeling well. I don't know what it is. It feels like how I felt after drinking that Corona a while back. It just so happens that I drank red wine on Saturday night and felt this a day after - just like the beer. Except, this time I drank more wine and this time the feeling is sticking around a few extra days. I don't know what it is and it bothers me. It feels like heartburn combined with the physical feeling of having a panic attack - you know, that weighty feeling on your chest. Plus, I feel kind of tired. Being my own worst enemy, when it's late at night I go online and investigate my possible ailments. It's not really healthy to sit in front of the computer at two in the morning and question, "what if I'm having a heart attack?". Of course, thinking that way ends up making me feel panicky for real which doesn't help how I physically feel. And if anyone makes a "maybe you're pregnant joke", you'll win a free punch in the throat. Tong!

The good thing is, it feels better when I'm in bed and after I eat. At least my sleep isn't robbed from me.

It doesn't help when you feel sick and exhausted. I'm now picking apart everything I haven't done while my partner has been away. Maybe I'm not doing enough...maybe I have failed...See, I completely need someone to check in on me and supervise me! I always seem to choose to dwell on all the things I haven't done rather than focus on what I have done. I've faithfully done these online French courses. I have something to be proud of. Dammit.

So yeah. Sick of being a Tour Widow. I want him home. I want to make a bookcase with him or maybe even lay down some new hardwood flooring, if you know what I mean. I'm tired of overestimating my dinner portions for myself. My boobs are in dire need of fondling.

The only good thing about him gone is the fact that the mornings have been so quiet. It is as though those construction workers and the neighbour's poodle were up to something - a plan to disrupt his each and every morning! It's strange. Ever since he left, it's been very quiet. No poodle barking at 8am. No construction work. If there is a bit of construction work, they are extremely quiet. I'm convinced they knew he was gone. MwaHA!

You know what I'm also tired of? Portly cross-eyed groupies trying to pick up my boyfriend just because he plays a guitar on stage. That's all. Also, I'm happy to report that so far on tour - the Boobs of the Prairies have been the nicest, according to him. I should write some sort of Farley Mowat-esque illustrated novel called that. Hahaha...ah, I think my humour is deteriorating since he has been gone!

Instead of more complaining, I'll leave with some good news:
I'm coming home August 16th for two weeks. Yay! Gin! Friends! Prairie boobs! Air conditioning! I'll-be-broke-so-buy-me-a-coffee-and/or-gin! Mom food! My cat! Oglin' with my buddies! Yippee!

Groupies

2006-07-25T13:34:00.000-04:00

What is it with girls and musicians? If someone has an answer to that, I'd really like to know.

I understand that when you settle down with a guy in a band, you have to learn to deal with the "fans". There's no way around it. Yeah, it's not fun to have flashes of secret jealousy but it comes with the package deal - and it doesn't help when the band's lyrics praise naked boobies and anal sex. Though it's all in good fun for the boys, I'm certain there are fans who naturally assume that these four guys are swinging playboys and mansluts who are just waiting to take a groupie back to the van and then it's on their way to the next gig.

That is the concept that creeps me out, only because I know the band personally. I'm aware of their personal lives and I know who they are when they aren't plucking guitar strings or singing into a microphone. They are far from playboys and mansluts - heh, maybe only for their patiently waiting partners at home!

I know I didn't lead the life of angel in my single days. I know I got myself into some pretty messes. Like most girls, I can be attracted to musicians. I can also be attracted to postmen or waiters or athletes. Heh, I don't discriminate! Maybe I am just a shy person, but it never really crossed my mind to set my drunken eyes on a musician with the goal of fucking him. Well, maybe young Leonard Cohen...but that's another story.

The other night, a cross-eyed hefty gal tried to pick up my man. She was cool at the beginning of the night. She had a boyfriend and he was to stay with them, as the others were at another house that was full of cats. Fine. She ends up dipping into the sauce and suggests that they "screw in the van". Don't worry...her boyfriend was only in the house with her four year old child. Yeah. The night before that, two girls tried to pick up him and another guy from the band. At least they backed away when they said they were in relationships.

Screw in the van? Jesus H. Christ. That irked me. I keep reminding myself...this is what happens when you're with a band guy...this is what happens when you're with a band guy. I threw it back at him. What if a man said that at the party I went to on Saturday night? Would he be pissed off? He said he wouldn't be, especially if the guy was that drunk. I know the truth, however. He would be very pissed off. I'm not into these games that make other people jealous but it will never happen here. I'm invisible to the eyes of Quebecois men. Back home, I was on fire. On fire!

This is the bottom line. These girls are only after them because of the fact that they're on stage and playing music. Would they be approached if they were simply that guy in the crowd enjoying the band? Probably not. Place an instrument in their hands, add some hair grease, and show your tattoos - and they're Gods. Take away the instruments and they are just any other guy with styled hair and tattoos. Dime a dozen. If you overanalyze that to death, there's not much compliment to be had there. Like I mentioned before, I know I've been through some pretty lil messes in my past. Now, I would hate to know the only reason why someone wanted to fuck me was because I was on stage. I would hate to know that I am just another girl that was unfuckable beyond the stage. There is so much in between to discover that goes unnoticed - and I think it's kind of insulting that all the in between stuff is completely disregarded.

Of course, I'm not a man in a band. I'm sure they probably get off on simply knowing that these girls are stupid enough to put out - and that's how these guys usually think, my dears.

It used to really make me crunchy when they coaxed girls into showing them their breasts. I've threatened to do that myself but I'm a little uneven, if you will. Then it hit me. Not my boobs, haha. I would be way more hurt and jealous if my partner actually sat down with one of these fans and had an intense conversation about those little but significant details. I would be hurt if he deeply asked her what her favourite book was.

So anyone, please tell me - what is it with girls and musicians? Why is it that they can say they are in a relationship or married, but these girls still try to weaken them into "screwing in the van"?

I would really like to know.

Tags: Groupies, Musicians, Relationships,Sex

Sick, Mail, and the Breakfast Club Revisited

2006-07-24T23:15:00.000-04:00

Well, there are only three more shows and a whole lot of driving in between. Soon, my man will be home. Le sigh!

I think I caught a little cold. I don't feel that bad but I could feel a lot better. I feel so incredibly lazy which makes me wonder where all this time has gone. I haven't written this book that I babbled enough about. I guess one cannot force creativity. I know I can't. I'm like a dry wash rag. No matter how hard to squeeze or wring it, you ain't gonna get water - not even a drop. I built up this amazing large task for myself and I ended up a little overwhelmed. That's not to say I have no ideas. Au contraire, mes amis. There are some ideas blossoming in my head. The thing that concerns me is that I have nothing to show for my time apart from my partner. By the way, I am way to critical of myself. I wanted him to come home and be as proud of me as I am for him. I have been doing a lot of those French lessons online so I guess I have a little something something. I don't know if I can use it in public but c'est la vie.

I did hear from my partner tonight and he has fallen sick himself. Poor guy. He is a very typical Cancer. He likes his home, he likes his space, and he likes doing things on his own terms. I think he just wants to come home, regardless of feeling ill. I don't think I could handle being with the same people every day and then work with them at night. I'd go nuts and just want to go home pronto. He's sick and I know how he is when he falls ill. I wish I could have him here just to make him a little tea and honey, before cuddling in bed. I miss those simple things. I wonder if I am feeling ill because he is. Ah, that's the romantic version. I'm sure I just caught a germ.

Today has been a groggy one. Luckily, I woke up to a lovely gift in the mail! Oh, if there is anything that makes me happy - it's receiving mail! My friend from back home, a newer friend at that, send me a little something in the mail. A random gifting, if you will. Wow, what a surprise! She sent me a little makeup bag that is white with flowers and card deck faces (it actually reminds me of the 50's floor tiles in my grandmother's house). Inside, another surprise! A $25 gift certificate from MAC Cosmetics and a pair of Bettie Page barettes! And best of all, a short handwritten letter. Letters are wonderful, a true lost art!

Just to let random readers know, the barettes rock. I have about four different kinds of barettes now from the same company - BeBop Hairwear. The designs are rockin' and fun! They are full of attitude and style. I don't even know how to do my hair and these barettes cause me to gather up the compliments. Whether you want skulls, Betty Boop, polkadot bows and bats, tiki stuff, or even Elvis - she's got what you need! I love love love this girl's stuff - and she is an amazing person in real life. Check it out. Mine are little Bettie Pages with a light blue with white polkadot ribbon! Very cute and sassy!

I tried to rest up today, in order not to get sicker. I curled up on the couch and watched The Breakfast Club again. Now, I'm gonna get a lot of slack from 80s movies fans here - but I really would love to see a Breakfast Club reunion or look into their lives in 2006. I know such a movie would bomb completely. I can see Brian being the rich, smart computer geek. I can see Andy and Ally Sheedy's character being the oddest couple - kids, she's bossing him around because he can't talk to herself, basically taking care of him and the family until she has a big ol' breakdown. Claire and Bender - considering how his dad talked to him and berated him, he's a prime candidate to be a miserable bastard as an adult when he's in relationships - will obviously have an abusive relationship. She'll eventually become an alcoholic. Maybe Btian would like to dabble in coke. Or did that happen in the actor's real life?

And I just realized what a lacklustre idea that was - haha. Hey, I'm not feeling well.

By the Power of the Prairies

2006-07-22T16:21:00.000-04:00

Day nine...and I'm trying to be a busy lil bee. Well, I'm probably doing a horrible job at it! I slept in and I woke up feeling at peace. I find that I am sleeping on my partner's side of the bed now, with my back facing the wall. I wonder if it's a territorial thing? I usually sleep facing the wall, with a body behind me. I have yet to spoon with my baseball bat, haha.

This afternoon has been all about tidying up, while fitting in my pathetic attempt at exercising - HAHA. I must laugh in all-caps. Basically, I've ate a lot of pasta while he's been gone. The carbs are all going to my thighs! Well, not really. I'm doing situps and some other type of exercise that is probably not even considered an exercise. I'm also lifting 10 lbs weights. HAHA. It's getting a little easier. Maybe by the time he comes back, I will look like Arnold and challenge him to an arm wrestle...heehee. Oh yeah, I'll tell you which way is the beach!

Everytime I go to the store, I forget to buy Mr.Clean. Or M.Net, if you live in Quebec. My floors are kinda grubby and it doesn't help that our hardwood floors are all scratched up - at least it hides the grub. Now, I'm paranoid if my tour widow friend sleeps over. I don't what to be known as the girl with the dirty floors...and I don't want her socks or bare feets to look like she's been running through a field of dirt...

Tonight, I am conquering my fear of parties...HAHA. Another loud laugh in all-caps. I should go as it will be good for me. I need to start being more out there. I'm sure it won't be as bad as I dream it will be. It should go smoothly and it will probably be fun. Maybe I'll surprise myself with some witty banter! Maybe I'll be on fire!!!!

By the power of the prairies, I will be on fire!!!

Youtube & HHOF!

2006-07-22T02:31:00.000-04:00

Ah, to be a kid again! Thanks to this show, I grew up to be a creepy adult!

Learning French ... ou quelque chose

2006-07-21T20:57:00.000-04:00

Being the sassy broad that I am, I decided to stir up the proverbial pot and use my French at the grocery store. Instead of saying a mumbled "merci" - I added a semi-loud "beaucoup" to the end of it. Heh...it's something. As well, when I asked for cigarettes (yes, yes...smoking again) I proudly said "aussi" out loud. The cashier looked at me blankly. They're not super friendly at my local grocery store. Whenever I hear people ask for cigarettes, they never say "Players, aussi!". Ah well, it's something.

Actually, I don't care for this Barnes and Noble course too much. I think it's truly meant for people who just want to order food in France and get by with random sentences. It bothers me that I am reading over these lessons and not getting the full explanation of proper verb uses. I know my verbs in present tense but I can't talk about the future or my past. I'd really appreciate a lesson or two on that, even though it would simply be there to refresh my rusty ol' memory. And don't get me started on their message board - it's so difficult to navigate.

When I got home from the grocery store, I decided to shut off the computer for a while. It wouldn't. I silently freaked out and became glad I bought those cigarettes. I hate the computer. If it was mine, I wouldn't care as much. It is not my computer, however, so I have to be extra careful. The last thing I need is my man returning home to lost files and blood curdling screams as I curl up on the couch crying. That's not a good way to say hello after three weeks on the road.

Anyway, I called his father and he talked me through shutting it done properly. I'm not a dummy - I know how to do this. I just wanted him to guide me so that my partner doesn't think I just did what I thought was best (and then having it fuck up). Everything is okay. Whew. The only issue is that when I am shutting down the computer via that window that says shut off, restart, etc - the screen goes black and white. When I hit cancel, it returns to color. I'm gonna keep my fingers crossed and hope that something tragic does not happen. According to my astrology loving friend, we are in a mercury retrogade and we should back up our computer files.

I'm with headache tonight. I feel better from my little breakdown this morning, but I am feeling a little lonely. I'll survive. A party tomorrow night will probably change that fairly quickly.

Tags Barnes and Noble, Computer, French

Sincerely, L.Cohen

2006-07-20T13:04:00.000-04:00

Today, is my partner's birthday. He is now officially half-way to 40! Like Willie Nelson, he is on the road again. No birthday blowjob for him, nor cake - and I love to decorate me a mean cake. I am without cake and cock!

Regardless, I am enjoying the place to myself. I must admit the first couple of days, I may have overdid on the porn. When I get into something while I'm alone - be it smoking cigarettes or listening to a particular song or watching a dvd box set - I completely over-endulge. Perhaps, it's the mild obsessive/compulsive disorder that runs in my family.

The most interesting pieces of news have been freely flowing towards me. My favourite singer and poet, Leonard Cohen, has been spotted in my city. Not just once. I have heard this from tons of people. Even from people that I thought despised me - well, I'm only on their slight shit-list - wrote me to say that he is floating around town. I like this thought.

If you do not know me, you will shortly discover my tremendous love for this man. I love him. I love his voice. I love his words. I love his poetry. I love how he can put together a simple sentence. I bet he could casually say he was going to get some bread at the corner store and make it sound luscious and seductive, make my heart beat a little faster. I love this man. He has stuck by me since high school and watched me blossom into that complicated woman he wrote poems about. Okay, not really...haha. I only wish. Le sigh. I'm such a girl when it comes to him. I imagine myself walking down a snowy street on a winter evening, a scarf wrapped around my neck and wearing a classy peacoat. My red lipstick staining the end of my cigarette. And walking towards me is a man...that man is Leonard Cohen. He would say something simple to me. Maybe ask me to walk alongside him or to go for a quiet glass of red wine. And then we would fall in love and he would write songs about me and we'll live happily ever after.

*insert stupid smile here*

I must admit here that I don't particularly enjoy his newer stuff. The words are still powerful but the plethora of synth keyboards cheapen it, in my humble opinion. It was okay in the 80s but it's not acceptable in this day and age. I would like to see him do something like he did in the 60s - just him and a guitar or at least a string band. I think that could reach a whole new audience. And I also know that it's probably not normal for a 29 year old to have a crush on a 72 year old. Unless you are Anna Nicole Smith.

So Mr. Leonard Cohen is in town. Walking about. Enjoying the city. I am tempted to seek him out, as crazy at that sounds, just for a simple glance at this man I so admire. Of course, I am here at home. There's a very good reason for me being here.

Due to my own physical circumstances, I am positive that I would run into him. My first reason not to seek him out is because it is too hot. These past few days I have been heat stroke queezy. I sit still and I'm sweating like I ran 5o miles. The last thing I would want is to stand before L.Cohen and sweat. I wouldn't know what to say in the first place due to nervousness. And when I am nervous, I pick apart every single motion my body makes. That makes me break a little sweat which makes me pick apart why I am sweating. I have ruined perfectly fine conversations just by holding another one in my head, obsessing about the line of sweat on my brow. Hi, Mr Leonard Cohen, I'm ___ and I have a sweating problem.

The second reason is truly obvious. I have the biggest and reddest zit....on my fucking nose! Jesus Christ, it's awful. I know I don't have the best skin but I can deal with it. This is embarrassing. It's the brand of junior high embarrassment that is really hard to take! All of a sudden I feel fourteen again, for all the wrong reasons! Hi, Mr Leonard Cohen...I'd like to introduce you to my friend, the monsterous and reddest mountain of a zit. I literally look like I am growing a beak. It's on the bridge of my nose and accurately in the middle. It's bright red and I am a pale gal. Just a little higher up on my nose and I would like a bindi. The only good thing about it is if I do choose to go out - my dark framed glasses will hide it, to a certain degree.

My zit, I've called him Rudolph, and I will go on to finish this hot cup of coffee before conquering the day. Who knows, maybe one day soon I will be writing about my saucy love affair with a certain Leonard! (not Nimoy.)

Being Jealous So Far From Home

2006-07-20T00:51:00.000-04:00

Ah, day six. Time is going by, ain't it?

Well, last night I lived vicariously through my partner and each and every old friend of mine back home. The band played in my home town and of all cities on their schedule, it was the only place I was truly jealous about not being able to attend. Last night, I sat here and grumbled to myself. I bitterly smoked cigarette after cigarette. I waited. I was even nervous - will they impress my friends? Will people show up? Will they end up hated my home town as they assumed they would? What if they think my friends are lame and square as the rest of English Canada?

Thankfully, I had a lot of sleuths who took of every single detail to satisfied my analytical mind! I was wired all day so I stayed up rather late to get wind from people, either online or via telephone. And that I did.

The first person to call was my lovely sister. She, ever the optimist, confessed that the show went very well. They blew the other band off the stage and my man's guitar playing was very impressive. A few people danced at the front of the stage. It was reasonably crowded for a Tuesday night (according to another friend, it was more full than usual!). The people seemed to enjoy it and the band members were all in jovial moods. There was only one set of home town boobies flashed to the band. Yay, for home town boobies!

My partner met a lot of my friends that he never had the chance to meet when I was in the process of moving out of my city. I felt a little sad at knowing I was not there to give big hugs to old friends with him, but I am very pleased he had the chance to meet my crew. I even got one friend to grab his ass and tell him that I send my regards - apparently, he got a kick out of that. From what I heard from people, it seemed to prove a positive environment for the boys and a relaxing one at that. It's just want they needed, methinks.

I went to bed excited like a kid hepped up on candy. In fact, I couldn't fall asleep until well past five in the morning. I was wired. I have to admit that I felt on fire all day - I was witty as fuck and I had no one to bounce my brilliance off of. The thing that made me so giddy was hearing from my sister and many other friends about what my partner was saying about me. I felt like that kid in school who finds out that their crush likes them back! He said so many sweet things! He told everyone how much he misses me and loves me. He told them that he just wants to come home to me. He told my sister that he wants to come back to my home town to become more close to my family and he that he wishes to meet my grandmother. Yeah, I was getting teary-eyed at this point! He said that he was sorry that he called me up in a grumpy mood (I took no offense!). He was introducing my sister's husband to the band as "his brother-in-law" - that made me get very sappy too! Also, he told my sister to tell my family that he is really a doctor who drives a cadillac - I don't really know where that came from other than the rum, haha. I know I turn to my very protective big sister whenever things aren't calm in my relationship, so it was nice for her to see how much of a gentle, peaceful, and kindhearted person he really is. Don't get me wrong, she has never doubted that. It made me very happy to know that many of my other friends saw that side of him as well, even though they don't know him very well.

I talked to the man in the morning. I set them up to stay at my friend's place. It made me truly happy to know that they were being well taken care of and that he would be well fed in the morning. Perhaps, that sounds a bit silly of me. I figure, it must be tough on the road as they are constantly sleeping the van or on the floor and not able to do laundry. My friend's mom was very hospitable and extended this invitation many months ago. He called in the morning, the sounds of sizzling bacon and sleepy chatter in the background. He was well rested and happy to declare that he actually slept on a bed last night - in his own private room, at that! I talked to my friend for a moment, who is sending a gift with the band for me. He told me how the show went and how much he loved and missed me. They sounded like they were in for a big breakfast. I told him to give my friend's mom a big hug from me.

Later, I received an email from the mom. She said many sweet things about him - how intelligent he is, how polite, and how young he looks! He is a very nice man, she said. I believe they just may stay there on their way back home. Ah, if only my partner could see my folks while he is at it.I suppose it's close enough but they'll be worn out.

I've been walking on air today. Tomorrow is his birthday. Sigh...no birthday blowjob, haha. Actually, I don't think we have ever spent his birthday alone - he's always been playing a show. Next year, it will be the same!

On a side note:
-I am struggling through lesson two of French. Good Lord. I thought I kicked ass on lesson one. Je suis stupide! Mais Oui! Nothing sinks in in ye olde noggin.
-I am smoking too many cigarettes in lieu of kisses.
-I feel like all I am doing is sitting here and getting fat. I'm probably not but I fear my boyfriend will come home to a beluga of a female.
-All I have been eating is pasta salad. I really should learn how to estimate because my pasta salad for two could have served a family reunion.
-And best of all, I have recently grown another nose that I fondly call my new beak. Yes, the brightest and biggest zit you have ever seen on the bridge of my nose. Hot.

Francais, mais oui!

2006-07-18T21:32:00.000-04:00

The break from the heat has given me a better opportunity to take full advantage of the day. Sure, the bedroom looks like a shopping mall vomited all over the floor again but I think I have made a good effort at my time off.

I entered the virtual class room. I am taken an online course at Barnes and Noble University. It is French for Beginners. I have gone through lesson one all afternoon and it stretched into the early evening. I'm proud of myself! I still have to complete to writing exercises and perhaps I should practise on here. Thankfully, a lot of it makes sense. Those two damned years of French in junior high paid off. I still regret not using my paid - gulp - course to the full extent. That was a good waste of $300. Ah well. It's never too late.

The biggest hurdle with learning French is becoming more confident. It's hard to just strike up a conversation at this point. Everyone knows me as English. What would they think if I, all of a sudden, started parlez vous-ing at them. It makes me laugh, because in my head I can see my brilliant expertise. Ah, that is only a dream. One day, I'll show them. I'll be mais oui-ing and s'il vous plait-ing until the cows come home. You'll see.

Another thing is, with a lot of these beginner French courses, is that it is Parisian French. It is far from the Quebecois French they speak out here. It's more chewed up and spat in your face. That's not an insult to the Quebecois. I'm just calling it like it is.

On a side note, I am completely and utterly jealous that my partner's band is playing in my hometown tonight. I want to be there! I told a few friends to grab my man's ass and tell him I send my regards. I hope that happens. I hope my hometown proves them wrong, oh yes. Often, it is a city that is at ease with complaining. People complain there are not enough good shows or events to attend. When there is something finally great in the city, no one shows. They are much more content to sit on their couch and complain until winter-time. I hope for a fun show and lots of people. If the city disappoints them - I will take it personally!

I just want to be that girl surrounded by friends and loved ones, enjoying the music. Bah!

Speaking of my love, he is stressed out. I don't like to hear him in this state. I sincerely hope that it is just the lack of sleep that is talking. I just want to rescue him and be along side him. He is a typical Cancer. He loves being at home. He loves his space. He gets cranky when that is denied. And boy, does he ever love his own bed. Meow!

I will, hopefully, hear from him tonight. I lined up a place for them to stay. There will be beds and a hearty breakfast in the morning. Selfishly, I hope there are a lot of good wishes for me from my old friends that I miss so dearly.

A Better, Less Overheated Update

2006-07-18T14:29:00.000-04:00

Who's kidding who, the last few days have not be fun. I'm missing my very own musician, but I'm dealing with it. It is humidity/heat that I have the problem with. If humidity was a person, I would punch him or her right in the neck. Ha-zah!

It's still very warm and sunny out. The humidex reads 32C (89.6F) but compared to the last few days, this is like the damned arctic. If it's one thing I hate, it's sweating like a marathon runner when the only active thing I am doing is simply sitting still. Not hot. I think I have suffered from bouts of heat stroke over the last few days in my sweat-box of an apartment. I have been very lethargic for no other reason. I set out to have a very enthusiastic and active day. By mid-afternoon, I am done. My sinuses get blocked, my head aches, and my stomach becomes very unsettled. I am normally the type of person who does not get nausea so it causes me to become very whiny and needy. Heh, it's easier to control when you have no one to complain to! Anyway, whenever I get a bout of nausea, I end up becoming paranoia. Did he plant a seed? Did I drink bad milk from the fridge? Do I have worms? Nope, it's just the damned heat. I guess I should be happy that it's not a case of the worms.

My in-laws brought over two fans. Unfortunately, they did not want my autograph (Hey-o! I'm here all week!). I have three fans in total. My living room is like an 80's model photography shoot - my hair blowing around in the wind, while I wear my Jordache jeans and neon tube top to the sounds of Michael Sambello's Maniac. Ah, paints a lovely picture for y'all!

Seriously though, this heat is causing me to become a great sloth. I can't think. I can't do anything with such an uneasy stomach. I can't focus, even on the most easy tasks. At least I cleaned up the apartment yesterday, before my fellow Tour Widow came by for dinner. After my surprise in the garbage though, I had to retire from everything. I was done for the day. Blarg!

It was lovely having my girl friend over last night. She brought over a bottle of chilled white wine and strawberries - she claimed she was not going to seduce me, haha. I don't think a guy has even done that for me before (I do recall, however, trying that out on a man in the past. He was more interested in the television. At least, I didn't have to share my damned strawberries)! We sat outside on my patio and talked for a few hours. It was really nice and I appreciate her company. I'm no master chef, but I like making dinner for friends. I made a cold pasta and bean salad - which doesn't sound like much. Originally, I was supposed to make chili but after sitting in my apartment, otherwise known as the fiery depths of hell - I imagined the both of us spontaniously combusting due to being overheated.

I'm such a cheap drunk, it's not even funny. Half a bottle of wine and I'm fuzzy headed. This is the reason I care not to drink in public anymore. When feeling the booze, I get warm and loving and social for a good half hour. After that, I just want to sleep. I've always wanted to be that wild and crazy drunk. Well, it wasn't my life ambition - I just wish it didn't hit me in such a sleepy way.

After my tour widow company left, I went online and chatted with a friend I haven't talked to in YEARS. This was a girl that lived back home. We used to go to this particular bar together and dance our asses off. We used to have a blast together. She's a very kind-hearted girl and I always wished the best for her. When she moved back to her reserve in Ontario, I was very sad. She ended up falling in love with a French man and now she is "with seed". It was nice catching up. The only stupid thing is that I found out her partner's family is from here and they were out here last summer! If only I knew, we would have hooked up for a coffee!

Tonight, the band plays in my hometown. It's the only stop on their tour that I am rather bitter about. I know my old crew will be there. I would have been in MY environment if I was there. I would have been the one dancing and getting my boobs grabbed by my friends! I would have felt a lot more comfortable and into the music. I hope my town treats them well. I know, sometimes, there is a lack of spirit and participation. I want to prove the band wrong! I want them to love playing there. They better put on a good show for my friends...or else! I'm certain I will get the full update later on tonight or tomorrow. I really wish I could be there.

Le Sigh.

It's Been Too Hot

2006-07-18T11:53:00.000-04:00

Forgive me and my indecisive stitches, I know I have been a stranger around these parts lately.

Recently, my partner-in-crime left on a musical tour of duty. The weekend before he left was a stressful one. A bunch of us went to a show about eight hours away and the first half of the trip went just fine. I was having fun and I was being chatty. Everything was smooth and fun. Then the combination of heat, sun, and social anxiety kicked in. I was a bit on edge, if you will. A passing comment made me irritated and the swarm of invited people to our hotel room made me even more irritated. I do not function well without sleep. The second half of the trip was quite uncomfortable, but mostly due to my own prior mistakes. Not a single person talked to me and I built up an even bigger wall around myself. I shut down. It happens when you are surrounded by people who are more comfortable to speak a language that you are not familiar with.

We came home to a monster blowout. I heard a lot of words that were very bitter to swallow. I am with someone who is very much into tough love. It hurts at the time but in the long run I appreciate his ways. You see, cuddling and sweetness only goes so far. It's the tough words that cause a reaction - hopefully towards change. He's looking out for me.

He has left and I feel alright. Actually, I enjoy this time alone. Before he left, I made a list of things to accomplish. I admit that I am failing. Like the great Steven Tyler of Aerosmith once said, my get up and go must have got up and left! It's only day five though, I suppose I shouldn't worry. It's not like I am being a lazy television watching sloth anyway.

What's holding me back is the heat. There is a big block of humidity hanging over this city and by the middle of the day, I am messed up. I wouldn't know how it feels to get heat stroke but I think I have suffered it! Currently, I am okay. I have just got out of bed - a little late, at that - so it has yet to hit me. In my little sweat-box of an apartment, the last few days have been a stunted hell. My sinuses get blocked up. My head begins to pound. I get very queesy. I'm never queesy so the first thing my paranoid mind assumes is - what if I'm "with seed"?!

I sincerely hope this heat passes because I find all I want to do is sit in front of my very small fan and close my weary eyes. I want to have something to show for being alone after all these days. I have convinced my partner that I will write, goddamn it! So far, the most creative thing I have come up with is a short tale about taking a bath that is full of ice cubes.

I have requested more fans. I hear they are on their way. Maybe I'll actually be able to get things done!

** As I was writing this, my two bigger fans have arrived. Sweet Baby Jesus, it's a like an old 80's photo shoot in my living room - wind blowing my hair around seductively! Cool kitty.

On the Edge of a Panic Attack

2006-07-17T13:27:00.000-04:00

Call me dependant on my man.

Call me a stupid defenseless girl.

Paint me whatever you wish - I don't fucking care.

Right about now, I would really love my man to be around. No, not for a moment of passion and not even for the companionship (though I would not object). I need him to kill some bugs. Oh, sweet baby Jesus...I need him to kill some bugs.

The summer I was 23, I smoked weed here and there. I never truly liked the feeling of being high. I would become even more quiet and withdrawn. I would stare at people for a little too long. I would obsess about how I wasn't saying anything and how boring I was. That same summer, our city's trees were infested with tent worms. I never liked worms but I could deal with them. I mostly just avoided them. Being high that summer and getting over some personal issues, for some reason, helped me develop this panic and fear of worms. Plus, I had a really bad first date where I found a worm in my tea - after I finished drinking it.

I guess I can't say I'm scared of any kind of worm. Seeing them fills me with panic, especially those tree worms and maggots. Even thinking of them turns my stomach. I'm pretty cool with earthworms but feel very uneasy when it rains and they are all over the side walk.

I've been a very busy bee this afternoon, getting the house all clean and tidy. Tomorrow is garbage day. I kind of put it off last garbage day and I don't put the bag outside as raccoons have been a problem lately. I take the garbage out of the can and worms. Worms. Maggots. I'm domestically embarrassed to admit that, but I suppose it has happened to everyone at least once.

I freeze. I feel shivery, cold, and dizzy.

Usually, at this point I call for my man to deal with it. Instead, I stand there and breathe deeply. This has been the only moment I have truly wanted a cigarette, as I stopped last night. I run for my bottle of hairspray to kill them, because I am that much of a girl. There are a few on the floor too. They won't die. I get hot water and disinfectant for the garbage can. I'm armed with too much paper towel to kill them. I want to vomit and I want to cry. I hate worms. I am still shaky...

Somebody give me a fucking cigarette and a shoulder to hang onto. I'm on the quivery edge of a panic attack.

Inner Demon

2006-07-15T00:22:00.000-04:00

It's always hard to hear from someone you admire that you are fucked up. The worst thing about it is actually knowing it.

There's a good reason why I do not go along with the boys, when there is room for me in the van. I feel like I stick out like a sore thumb and I feel social anxiety kick in full throttle. I'm not one for team sports.

Last weekend was no exception. In fact, it was a rough one. Well...only half the time.

The first part of the voyage was great. I felt very positive and I pumped myself up for the outing. It's not like I'm some sort of recluse or wack-job in the first place. I just have to encourage myself to not fall into a pile of anxious messiness. I try so very hard but my inner demons always seem to win!

I know it's probably not healthy but I tend to stick to the people I am most comfortable with. Being in Quebec and not French, I lean towards the English people. It's a comfort zone, though I realize I should try a little bit harder with the French. The only reason the first half of the band trip went smoothly was because I had another girl friend there. An English girl friend and one that I understand when she speaks French. It calms me and, besides, I honestly enjoy her company. We chatted, we laughed - it was a good time on the road. Eventually, everyone fell asleep in the van with the exception of the driver and myself. I felt at a loss for words, but there's so much you can say when you are in the backseat.

The show went just as well. I chatted up a storm. I was friendly. I felt good inside. It was a hot summer day and I felt my skin getting redder and redder. I tried to revive myself with my good friend, Beer. I drank a quarter of a can and felt uneasy. It was one of those days where I couldn't hold down alcohol. I shouldn't be drinking in the first place, given the heat and the lack of food in my tummy. Sometimes it is either drink and be a part of the crowd until I black out (low blood sugar) or stay sober and healthy. At least I know better to not listen to the Beer Demon, that lurks inside each and everyone of us. I floated around here and there, but mainly stuck to the people I drove in with. I made a couple of rounds, talking to a girl from back home (what a pleasant surprise!) and another girl I met off Myspace. Everyone was having a good old time.

Enter inner demon.

At the end of the night, I was tired and sunburnt. I just wanted to chill out and relax. Take it easy, if you will. I should have known better because before I knew it, people from the outdoor show were being invited to our hotel room left and right. Insert the beginnings of social anxiety here. I fell into a less than pleasant mood to say the least. It took forever for everyone to pack up their vans and I got stuck manning the merch booth. I have no problem with that. A local approached me and we talked about the town we were in and I casually mentioned how I would love to see Niagara Falls as it was only 15 minutes away. I figured that while we were this close, we may as well see one of the world's biggest tourist spots.

He replied, "It's only fucking water!"

That was almost the straw that broke the camel's back! It's only fucking water? What the hell? It's freaking Niagara Falls! I tried with clumsy words to explain myself. I proudly stated that I was from the prairies and you don't, obviously, see landmarks such as that. He looked utterly bored. He turned his attention to the French girls and they all began to rave about Quebec. It's the best, it's the greatest, the woman are the best women. Yeah. I felt like a big ol' prairies reject! After that moment, this guy did not speak another word to me nor did he acknowledge my presense - even when saying goodbye the next day! I have to say, it kind of kicked off that mood and offended me.

We all piled into the van and it's drunken French people everywhere. And it's also drunken French people singing drunken French songs. People are laughing. They understand. I sit there, clued out as usual. Frustration is beginning to rear it's ugly head.

We get to the hotel room and there's a good number of people. I am instantly cranky. Cranky like a little child who has been stuck in a mall or out in the sun all day long. I just want to crash. I don't want to socialize with a bunch of drunken strangers. They sensed that, I assume, as no one approached me.

There's always a kind of awkwardness when you are the only sober person in a room full of drunks. I was glad that they were all having a good time. I just felt a little disassociated, a little disconnected from that brand of fun. I know it was my choice to come along and not drink, I know it's not my say to what the band wants to do. I tried to swallow my seemingly selfish feelings but it was next to impossible. I know I showed a look of irritation on my face. I felt isolated and in my own nervousness - all I wanted to do was flee. I seem to always want to flee when I am far away from my own shelter.

You know, I don't like this about myself. It's a side I have always known but it seems to have come into bloom upon arriving to this city. I'm the sober one. I sit back and watch people being asses. I see them having fun and taking silly photographs and grabbing boobs and doing stupid dances. I sit back and what kicks in is a longing to return home. I used to be like this, I recall as I sit back. Now, I am stuffy and stiff and awkward. I cannot seem to let loose. I know I'm fun. I know I am interesting. And I certainly know I am downright silly! However, with the majority of the people in this city, I cannot seem to break out of this very tough shell I have built around me. I feel left out and I know I have made myself feel left out all on my own.

I go for a walk. I would prefer to go on my own but I do not know the city well. I long for a visit to a trusted 711. They don't have any here. I settle for a lacklustre convenience store. I curse the postcard situation. My partner is not impressed. I can almost tell that he wants to keep away from me.

As we return, I latch onto two younger girls who are very nice and sweet. They are sober and tired - they, too, are waiting on their boyfriends to quit partying and head back to their hotel. I sit there, smoking endless cigarettes, and outright complain. I vent and vent and vent. They feel bad for me. Not only can they see the tired expression on my face but they can see the irked expression that comes with the other kind of younger girls who think it's so fun and cool to flash their titties to a band in front of a camera. Ah, the sweet icing on the cake. These girls I sat with felt so bad for me that they took it upon themselves to take me to Niagara Falls. I tell them how appreciative I am for their gesture and thank them for listening. I bond with these girls, even though one of them said she was age five in 1990. Upon hearing that, I imagined myself as a complaining old hag! I get to see Niagara Falls. Just my luck, there were no lights on. Still, something amazing before my prairie eyes!

We return to my party and the token completely fucked up girl was awake (again). She had this shrill voice that made you want to spontaniously do roundhouse punches to the neck region, to anyone in your path. A lot of people were gone, but they were still in and out of our room to rescue beer. I clenched my fists, tried not to storm into my room(but probably did), and went directly to bed to the sweet sounds of shrill voiced completely fucked up girl yapping away about something to gain any kind of attention.

Sleep. Sleep is always a beloved companion.

In the morning, I was full of rise and shine. I had another one of those sympathy hangovers. My head was killing me but I was happy to get out and enjoy the drive back. It was a waiting game. Hungry and anxious, I paced about but was in a calmer mood. It was morning. And then we went for breakfast.

I'm all over breakfast. Nothing makes me happier than a greasy breakfast and that first cup of coffee. A group of 12, we were. We get two seperate tables. I, of course, get stuck at the French table. Usually, I enjoy listening in (though it has taken me a long time) and I sit back. Eventually, the words are translated. I sit there in silence and gobble down my grub. I think only a few words are spoken to me. I get pissy at the rude comments they say about the waitress in French.

We drive for eight hours, plus rest stops along the way. All French, once again. No one says a word to me. Once again, I shut my doors. I feel a sad storm brewing inside. No one talks to me and I barely understand (only insults and dirty comments about women, I seem to get). I just sit there. I sit through the long drive and nothing. I come to the point where I pretend to read and sleep because what's the point, I figure. I know I cannot speak French and I know it's my own damned fault. I could have tried harder. I know it's easy for them all to fall into it. But I just sit there. I feel unimportant, left out, cast aside. It's an incredible lonely feeling that I have only tasted since moving here. It's bad enough when someone is involved in a fun conversation without you, but it's worse when you barely understand a single word being said. It's incredibly lonely and I do not think anyone in this circle of acquaintances can relate. I come off as a grumpy snob when all I feel is tremendously left out. After eight hours of that, I fell into another round of sad.

Not only did I mope around with a little angry cloud over my head on Saturday night, but I stared off in my own silent world for hours upon hours. I know it's mostly my doing, my own odd feelings. What was I suppose to do? How was I suppose to act after that many hours of non-stop language that I just did not understand? How was I suppose to react when the only English spoken was in regards to the young attention whores displaying their naked boobs? The only thing I could think of was a good swig of homeopathic anxiety remedies.

I know I was a bit of a pain in the ass, this past weekend.

When we got home, we both exploded. And when I say exploded, it's honestly not that bad. Perhaps, the proverbial pot bubbled over. It was long and messy and full of tears. Sigh.

I reacted to the whole weekend and chose to bring it up by turning into a wingnut. I brought up the naked boob attention whores. Not cool. Just insecure. Whenever I try to verbally explain myself, sludge flows out of my mouth. Nothing works. I sound like an insecure idiot. I tried to explain that I just couldn't fit in and I felt left out, so I reacted harshly. I told him that I felt lonely. That I used to be cool and fun and wacky. I told him that eight hours in a van and not being spoken to once drove me crazy. I told him that I do not know what to say to new people, especially when they are not sober. He told me next time to stay home.

He told me that it is not normal for me to be here for two years and not have a set of friends. He's right. He told me that it's not normal that I have been here for two years and haven't tried to learn a stitch of French. He's right. He told me that I haven't tried hard enough and that I sit to watch the world go by. He's right. He's right. He's right. He told me that I am not well adjusted. He's right again. He told me that I have a lot of potential and he wants to see me use my talents. He's right - problem is, I have no idea what this potential or talent is. He told me that I am not a very happy person. He's right. He told me that he is afraid to go away for three weeks, in fear of me going insane. That hurt.

(Of course, being the paranoid person that I am...I actually wondered "what if I do go insane!?")

He compared me to his friend the schitozphrenic. Yep, and that hurt too.

The thing is, I know he is right on a lot of levels. Maybe I just don't like hearing it spoken so bluntly.

Sometimes, I am so afraid of letting loose here and getting close to people. I feel like I am on a constant first date with a lot of people. You know, those wonky gaps of silence and that small talk. I'm fine with that, only until I start thinking about home and I get very lonely. I recognize that change within me and I am not sure it's a good change. I just want that old set of friends like I had back home, like people have here. Sometimes, I am afraid of letting those old friends go in order to accommodate the new ones - yet I know there's no reason to why I can't have both. Sometimes, I am so very afraid of losing my own identity here in the sea of French. I want to be that prairies girl for a long time. I want to be proud of where I come from. I never want to forget my home, my background.

And that is the reason why the Tour Widow doesn't go on tours. I complicate things. I complicate things there and in my own damn head. I make a molehill into a mountain. I panic. I want to be at home or in private. I desire my own schedule. I don' t want to socialize with girls who are barely legal who have no shame to piss in a parkade or flash their tits at every guy who holds a musical instrument. I'm better off left at home. I may go insane but at least I'm not miserable.

Mangy Cats, Pigeons, and Raccoons - Oh My!

2006-07-02T17:20:00.000-04:00

My sister gets cute fluffy wuffy wabbits living in her lush back yard. My mom gets well-behaved squirrels that frolic in her flower beds. My grandmother, a country yard full of birds and an arthritic handsome cat that is too tired to chase them (he prefers food of the canned variety, in his graceful elderly age). Ah, sounds lovely and complete when you look up to a sky full of stars at the end of the day.

What do I get? You would think not much as I live my life in the fast paced city. Maybe a little smog? Maybe the occasional late night racket?

What I did get the other day was a lovely visit from a raccoon. By the way, raccoons are only truly funny when they are going through your neighbour's garbage cans. As we were sitting back and enjoying a Japanese monster flick, something inside kept telling me to look back at the door to our patio. It was early and we usually leave the door open for a breeze. A few moments later and out of the corner of my eye, I see something move inside. I didn't have my glasses on so I thought it was just the stray cats that have been recently lurking around our building. As well, a summer or so ago I saw a family of raccoons and mistook them for a family of persian cats - that's how bad my eyes can be (at least I amuse myself with my bad vision). I turn around, only to see a large raccoon with beady raccoon eyes stepping foot into my kitchen.

"A fucking raccoon!" I yelped.

We both jumped up and it turned out the door. I guess he was under the impression that he truly wasn't welcome in our humble abode. By the time we made it out on the patio, he skidaddled across the neighbour's fence into the backlane. What a brave little raccoon, saying hello in an un-nocturnal kind of way. I'm just glad we noticed it before it was too late. The last thing I need is to be trapped in a small apartment with a raccoon that may or may not be full of piss and vinegar and rabies. Although, that would have made for a very interesting blog.

Dear Blog,
Today, I was attacked by a rabid raccoon. It became frightened by my screams of bloody murder and proceeded to take a dump on my kitchen floor, before raiding the garbage can. I no longer has any feeling in my lower limbs and digits.
The end.

That's what we get. Raccoons in our kitchen and pissy, mangy cats. At least, our new friends - the pigeons - have been rather respectful. They have yet to go mad with hunger and attack my throat. On that thought, perhaps I should train them to do that so that they can attack Bono and/or Tom Cruise next time they are in town. Caw-Caw!