amazing journey

whoa....um...are you still here?

2009-09-16T09:24:00.002-04:00

Just checking.

I have a new blog! You knew I couldn't stay away forever, didn't you? Email me urbaninfogirl [at] gmail [dot] com if you, you know, want to hook up and stuff. No pressure...

these things I resolve...no word of a lie

2009-01-08T16:29:00.005-05:00

I was chatting with the librarian who works in the staff library the other day, and when he wanted to emphasize a point, that this thing he was about to say was the absolute truth, he prefaced it with this:

"What's that saying people around here say - 'no word of a lie'? - okay, so no word of a lie..."

And then he went on to tell me the thing. But I had to interrupt him:

me: "Wait. What? That's a 'thing' around here? 'No word of a lie'?
him: "Yeah. It must be. I never heard it until I moved to Hamilton."
me: "Huh. That's weird, cos I think just now is the first time I've ever even heard that phrase."
him: "Really?"
me: "Yeah. No word of a lie."

Seriously, I crack my own shit up.

But really, is this a thing? Has anyone else ever heard this? He's from western Ontario, so you know... But there are a lot of things that are regional - perhaps this is one? Help me out here.

Okay, so the main reason I am gracing this blog with my presence after a way long hiatus is to announce my new year's resolutions! That's right, people. The head instructor at our karate school told us to write down our goals - that's when they truly become goals. Otherwise? If you don't write them down, they're just dreams. Once they're in print? Goals. Dude can be pretty philosophical while he's inflicting pain. So not only am I going to write them down, but I am going to write them down for the world to see. Or at least the 6 of y'all who keep reading this drivel.

Now, new year’s resolutions are usually of the “eat better and exercise more and get in shape” genre, but I actually already do eat pretty well, and I’m in reasonably good shape (don’t hate), so what’s left? These things:

#1 Perfect the nude/neutral lip.
So when you're blessed with skinny lips that are practically the same colour as the REST OF YOUR FACE it's hard to go out in public without something on them to show the world that you do indeed have, you know, a mouth. So I am constantly trying to find the lipstick/lipgloss/tinted lipbalm that emphasizes my mouth, without making me appear clownlike. People, it's uphill work. I have dozens of these products and there is just nothing that suits. It's either too pale (hi, I already own that look) or it's too dark (well, hey there, Bozo). So, this year? This year I vow to get professional intervention in the lip area. Surely to god there is a makeup person or esthetician out there who can help me. As of this week? I am officially on the hunt.

**I should mention, before I proceed, that I never said my resolutions would be life-altering or even intelligent. They're just things I'm gonna do. So as long as we're clear on that.**

#2 Drink more gin.
So who doesn't enjoy a nice glass of wine after a long day at work? Well, me apparently. Apparently? I enjoy 2 or 3 or even 4 glasses of wine. See the thing is, once the bottle is open, I somehow think that it must be entirely consumed at that exact time. It will not keep! So if John and I open a bottle, it is often gone before it's time to sit down at watch CSI. On occasion, another bottle may be opened. And that just leads to staying up too late, talking about politics and the state of the economy. Or arguing over the names of old Supertramp albums. Whatever. The thing with the gin, is that I will not actually consume an entire bottle.* In fact, if mixed properly with chilled vermouth and a couple of nice big fat olives? I will actually stop at one drink. So more gin! Hooray! Problem solved.

*unless I’m hanging with Vivian. In that case, all bets are off.

#3 Go out for lunch more.
By “out for lunch” I don’t necessarily mean out to a restaurant or anything. I really mean I just need to get away from my desk for a bit at lunch time. Sometimes I eat in the other office (ooooh radical!) but I’d like to go even further afield as often as possible. This is easier said than done in the winter months, of course. In the spring and summer I will go for a walk and eat picnic-style on a park bench, or take my lunch out to the patio overlooking the city and enjoy. During these neverending winter months, it’s definitely more difficult. I will have to explore my options here inside. I know there is a staff lunch room, but you know what those can be like – people bitching and kvetching and that is way hard to listen to. So I will begin an investigation, and hopefully find a nice quiet area that isn’t the desk in my office. Also the occasional restaurant visit would be nice. Anyone up for lunch with me?

#4 Unplug more.
People, I am quite serious about this one. I spend way too much time in front of a computer, mindlessly browsing, hanging on Facebook. I also spend too much time in front of the TV. Usually not watching anything in particular – there’s nothing on, but yet the TV is. Why is that? So I can complain about there being nothing to watch? It’s ridiculous. Time is one of the most amazing and precious things we have, and here I am just a-wasting it hardcore. I’m not giving up TV altogether, of course, that would be silly. But, our new rule is that we watch the shows we want to watch, and in between, the TV goes off. It’s seriously not rocket science, but I have never yet been able to accomplish anything even close to this, so it’s a big step.

#5 Blog less.
Ha, you’re thinking – e-L how can you claim to want to blog less when you’re barely able to pull off one or two measly posts each month? Well, that, in part, goes along with #4, and learning to unplug. I do believe, blogfriends, that it’s time to pull the plug on this amazing journey.

I’ve been blogging here on and off for almost 4 years, and it’s been great. But the last few months have been less so. I don’t know if it’s a change of focus or of priorities, but I’m no longer, as it were, feeling the love. Not from any of you, of course, y’all are great. It’s just time.

Will I be gone forever? I doubt it. Perhaps I’ll regroup and resurrect the amazing journey. Or, perhaps there is another blog in my future, one that will better reflect my energies and focus. I honestly can’t say right now. But if and when I figure it out, you will be the first to know.

Thanks to all of you for the laughs, for the inspiration, for the bloggy friendship.

Adieu

or christen boats with corgis

2008-12-10T18:47:00.001-05:00

This is some seriously funny shit. A well-deserved piss-taking from the man himself. Watch it again, right here.

Jon Stewart gives Canada the bizness

Oh, Jon. How much do I love you for this? Awesome.

why my kids rock harder than most kids (part I)

2008-12-03T20:25:00.000-05:00

CHRISTMAS LIST/LETTER 08

Dear Santa Claus,

How have you been? I’m almost 11 so I don’t need as many presents this year. I do want two things and they are as followed.

Student sized double bass
I-POD

I know you are busy, and if you can’t get these things, just do your best.

THANK YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

on fleeing to Aspen

2008-11-30T21:01:00.003-05:00

It's the day before the first of December. That would be the 30th of November, by most calendars. And we all know what that means. The holidays, they are upon us. I tend to look at the December holiday season as starting around the time of the US Thanksgiving holiday weekend. I don't know why, but it just seems to fit. So yesterday, we lugged the decorations downstairs and spruced the place up festive-like. Then we listened to the soundtrack from A Charlie Brown Christmas while I made dinner and after dinner we watched the Charlie Brown Christmas DVD.

Today, John put up the lights on our front veranda, and I did magical things with cedar boughs, magnolia leaves, berries and other festive stuff in my outdoor urns. We watched another Christmas special before the boys went up to bed. In a couple of weeks we will go choose and bring home a nice tree to decorate. There will be baking and shopping. Sounds great, right?

Then why does it always seem to dissolve into a full-on stressfest?

A couple of years ago I resolved to be more organized as the holidays approached, and to spend more time actually enjoying them, instead of cursing out other drivers as I headed once again to the store to buy yet another gift I'd forgotten I needed to buy. I resolved to simplify things - to spend less money, to streamline things. To eliminate some of the stressors that the holiday season tends to bring.

I think I've been relatively successful. Except that the rest of the world? Apparently didn't get the memo.

I think what I need to do is to completely shut off from society during the month of December. I don't mean from the people I care about, just from everything else. From the endless TV commercials boasting diamond pendants that are just what she wants, starting at $999.00. People! We are in a recession! Or, if not officially a recession, a really, really bad economic place! Diamonds are not a necessity! Also I need to shut off from the mall where the big red letters tell me that everything is MARKED DOWN AND 80% OFF AND IF YOU GET HERE EARLY YOU CAN TRAMPLE A MAN TO DEATH! (see my post from yesterday if you're not sure what that's about).

Now I realize that crazy-ass commercialism is not new. Heck, Charlie Brown recognized it in 1965. This is probably why his Christmas special is my absolute favourite. And this is also why the title of my post is what it is. I have a couple of friends who feel the same way, about the pressures of the holidays. I brought up the idea of a chalet in Aspen (I have no idea why I picked Aspen, but I did, and it seems perfect). A chalet we could all retreat to for the holidays. For ski and apres-ski. Good wine and great food. A fireplace. Good conversation and catching up. Possibly a hot tub. Relaxing and laughing, and doing it all without the stressors and the pressure.

Of course this chalet exists only in our collective imaginations. But maybe that's ok for right now. Maybe even an imaginary place is all we need to get us through the tough situations. Meditate - on the gathering at the chalet and you will be stronger. Visualize - the hot tub and the kids chilling by the fire, and you will be content. Breathe - into the images of hot rum toddies with your best friends, and you will find peace.

In January, I will let you know how I made out.

what i had planned to blog about

2008-11-29T21:15:00.003-05:00

I know. I'm not bitter or anything, but this is what I was going to blog about last night:

Worker dies at Long Island Wal-Mart after being trampled in Black Friday stampede

You may have heard this already. It's a story that was picked up by our local paper, so I always figure if the Spectator has it, everyone else does too.

Now that I have the opportunity to write about this event, I'm actually not sure that I can. I mean, seriously? Is this not one of the saddest testaments to our society ever? As if that poor dude went to work yesterday thinking "Damn, I could die today. I'd better spend extra time hugging my kids and telling my loved ones how I feel." The guy worked at Wal-Mart. He was not a soldier stationed in a war zone. Although I guess, in a way, he was.

When shoppers are taking giant doors off hinges in order to get in to a store? I'm thinking it's time, as a society, to reevaluate priorities. I mean I know they call these sales "door crashers", but when a man is trampled to death because the sea of people just will not stop? I don't know, man. Of course there have been tramplings in other scenarios - concerts, rallies. But for some reason, when it's shopping-related, it just seems - to me, anyway - that much more sad and ridiculous. Is it really worth that $10 off the video game?

I don't know. Maybe I'm not in a position to judge. But I'd like to think that I wouldn't step over a dying man to get to the best deal ever.

damn

2008-11-29T08:39:00.003-05:00

And I was doing so well. But I had to race home from work, pick up Max, drive him to a birthday party, hang out and wait for him, race over to my mum's with him, then off to meet John and Vivian and Steve for dinner. Then we went to see The Sadies (who are awesome and you totally need to check out their music; they are some of the most talented musicians in this country right now, and they put on an amazing show).

So yeah.

I'm not making excuses, I'm really not. I disclosed my non-blogmanship at the restaurant last night. Then I went on to tell my dinner guests what I had planned to blog about. And if I had a mobile blogging device, I could have done it right there. But I don't. So I missed a post.

But this live-blogging thing, where you tell your friends your posts? I totally think it could catch on.

I think I'll call it "dinner conversation". I really think I'm on to something.

4 for 1

2008-11-27T21:08:00.002-05:00

Today the 4 of us went to our doctor's office, rolled up our sleeves and got jabbed with the influenza vaccine. Last year was the first time the boys got the shot, so they knew what to expect, which was good. And bad. But it all worked out and we're set for the season. Bring it on influenza! Except - um - don't, okay?

If you've ever had a really bad flu, you know it's horrible. I'm not talking Norwalk-type-puke-your-guts-out stomach bug (not the flu, but distressing nonetheless) - I'm talking high fever, aches and chills, painful hair follicles, bad cough, delirious, skin that hurts to have the pajamas rub up against it, etc. That. Is the flu.

The last time I had a really bad bout of the flu was the first year John and I were married. On Boxing Day we went to my parents' for the annual family open house eats fest. I remember being there. I don't remember getting home. It isn't that I had too much Christmas cheer, it's just that I was so out of it, I only remember waking up in the night sweating but freezing, with a full-on body ache. I didn't remember ever being so sick. By our anniversary (December 30) I was still in pretty bad shape. Happy 1st Anniversary! Nothing says love like a wastepaper basket full of snotty tissues. I lay around and moaned. And John tried to find a loophole to get me off his hands, I'm sure.

Finally on New Year's Day, I was determined to take down the decorations that had been mocking me all week. So I got myself some drugs and loaded up. It was fine for a bit, I buzzed around taking shit off the tree, pulling down lights, gettin' 'er done. And then? Then I had some crazy-ass crash. I hit the wall, and had to go lie down. Except I couldn't sleep. I was nervous and stressed and felt like a junkie who needed a fix (except that I don't really know what that feels like, so I am taking some liberties, k?) My eyes were crazy and I was shaking. John read the package of Daytime Contac C or whatever the hell I was on. "If nervous feeling persists, do not continue to take". WTF? Nervous feeling? This is a side effect? Apparently it was. And a doozy of a side effect.

I don't know about you, but when I take some drugs for a condition, I look at the side effects, and then I completely disregard. "Pfft - whatev, grandma. Won't happen to me" At least that's what I used to do, before my fucked-up-Christmas-crazy-pants dance. I'm a little more careful now. I'm also pretty sure that this whole meltdown was prior to there being an available flu shot for regular peeps, so now I ensure that I get myself innoculated annually.

And in order to avoid the fucked-up-Christmas-crazy-pants dance? I recommend you do the same.

no, really, knock yourself out

2008-11-26T21:43:00.002-05:00

The other day John and I were discussing our finances. They are sucking. This is nothing particularly new, we have never been known for our stellar ability to earn and save money. However. Shit is going down, and well, the finances, they are suffering. So here's a little conversation we had the other morning:

me: maybe I should roll some change, you know, because we probably have like eleventy-seven dollars in pennies lying around here.
him: hmmmm...good idea!
me: yeah, we could maybe use it to buy presents!
him: haha we could!
me: or we could just give rolled change to people for holiday gifts and say "here, knock yourself out"
him: we could put it in socks! and say, "no, really knock yourself out!"

This caused me to laugh for like 10 minutes with tears and near loss of bladder control. Then, later on during the day if I happened to think about this conversation again I had another laughing fit. And then, in karate, when the instructor said something like "you can find weapons anywhere"? I thought of change socks.

For the record? We are probably not buying gifts with change. Nor are we giving change as gifts. Socks though? Are a possibility.

yes, it is

2008-11-25T21:30:00.002-05:00

Yesterday Charles very excitedly told me that it was exactly one month until his birthday! How cool is that - just a month! Which, means, of course, that today it is exactly one month until Christmas Day. How the freak did that happen? But it's true. One month.

So when I regained consciousness, I thought... no. No, e-L. Don't be afraid. It's only Christmas. And a month before Christmas is still an awfully long time. And take heart! Rejoice! Because when it's a month before Christmas you know what that means. That means it's time for this. Yes, it is.

Okay, I feel better now.

24

2008-11-24T22:27:00.006-05:00

It's post number 24 of 30, people. And I got nothing. So here, have some Photoshopped pics of the boys, courtesy of my brother, who seemingly has nothing else to do with his time but manipulate photos. Not that I don't appreciate it, of course.

The last two photos they didn't get at all. One day I'll have to sit them down for some episodes of Happy Days and the Carol Burnett Show, I guess.

the gift that keeps on giving

2008-11-23T21:23:00.002-05:00

A few weeks ago, my mother announced to me that she thought of the perfect gift for me for Christmas.

Now, for those of you unfamiliar with my mother, this means that whatever I happened to think of the gift idea is immaterial. She has thought of it, and therefore, it is perfect. Whatever it is. She may have decided that I need an anteater. And if that is the case? An anteater is what will be wrapped up for me under the tree Christmas morning.

Please. Don't get me wrong. I love my mother, she is the most wonderful mother ever. But sometimes her ideas of the "perfect gift" just aren't mine.

This year though, she outdid herself. But in a good way.

This year, she announced that what she would like to do for me for the whole of 2009, is give me 2 days a month in which she will come to my house and clean. That's right, I said clean. She will do baseboards, windows, blinds. She will launder curtains, clean rugs, polish furniture. She will dust, sterilize and wash. This 73-year old woman will spic-and-span my house at no charge. She will do it out of love, and out of respect for the fact that I just don't want, or need, any more stuff.

I cried. I really did. How great a gift is that? Now the thing about my mother, is that she kind of does this anyway. If she's babysitting the boys, she will also do the dishes. She'll organize stuff, sweep up the crumbs left from dinner, straighten the living room, stuff like that. Because she cannot sit still. She's not a TV watcher, really. She likes to read, but has only ever given herself the luxury of reading before she turns the light out in bed. She has worked ridonkulously hard her whole life. And now, in her retirement, this is what she wants to do. She's doing it so I don't have to. So that my weekends can be spent doing things I want to do. She's probably also doing it because she is appalled by the state of my house at any given time, but that's neither here nor there.

One time when she had spent a few days babysitting a sick toddler AND washing the floors AND cleaning our bathroom, I teased her that we just don't pay her nearly enough. And she laughed and said "I never had anyone to help me out, when you and Michael were little, and it was hard, with your dad working shifts and everything. So I wanted to make sure you did. Just promise me that you will do the same for Charles and Max when they have families, that's all I want."

Deal. You're the best, Nana.

strength, agility and accuracy

2008-11-22T23:05:00.002-05:00

We went to a book party today! I love that it was advertised as a "book party" as opposed to a "book launch". Since it's a book for kids, that was probably wise. I'm sure if we told the boys we were going to a book launch, they would have had visions of books being propelled across the parking lot. And hoo boy would they have been disappointed. But since it was a party, it was great. There was even cake, and balloons, and games!

And the book? Is awesome. Please, please, go check out The Legend of Ninja Cowboy Bear and see if you don't agree. And if you do agree, and you are in the position to buy books, please consider it for your collection. Unless you are related to me. In which case please do NOT buy it, because there is a very good chance I have already purchased it for one or more of your children for Christmas. I'm just saying.

girl time

2008-11-21T18:42:00.002-05:00

So remember last Friday when I talked about how it sucked to have to spend the whole evening at a Tupperware party on the last evening of the work week? Yeah. Well this Friday MORE than makes up for it. You see, blogfriends, in about 45 minutes, Vivian is coming to pick me up and we are going to another friend's house to curl up on the couch, watch TV, drink wine and chat. And that rocks in just so many ways.

That's what Friday nights are all about, Charlie Brown.

I have so much more to say about so many things, I am considering NaBloPoing myself right through December.

got art if you want it

2008-11-20T22:03:00.002-05:00

So my place of work has rolled out this rad new program. A call went out a few weeks ago for anyone who might be interested in participating in an art project. Over the course of the next few months, local artists will be coming to our centre to lead projects in printmaking, book making (actual books, not, you know, betting), painting, photography, collage and a whole bunch of other stuff. Of course I signed up, because that's how I roll.

Tonight was the first session, and can I just say? I am creatively exhausted. I totally promise to blog more about the experience once I have a few sessions under my belt. I will say though, that it was one of the most emotionally-charged events I've ever attended, and I am so grateful to be a part of it. It's going to rock. And we might even get a gala opening at the end of it. A gala!

The chance to express myself visually AND free drinks and finger foods? Dudes. As IF I wouldn't be in.

what the world needs now

2008-11-19T21:00:00.002-05:00

I'm light on content again tonight, people, but you are going to THANK me for what I am about to post. Oh, yes you are.

I'm not a big fan of candy, really. I never have been the kid who was all over the all-day sucker, the Mike and Ike, the Goodies, ju-jubes, etc. I like chocolate, but chewy candy, hard candy? Meh. Even the chicken bone - hard candy on the outside and chocolate on the inside? Does little for me. And really, what kind of name is "Chicken Bone" for a candy, anyway? Did this not totally mess up millions of little kids over the years? "Don't eat the chicken bones! Here have a Chicken Bone!" Yikes.

Anyway, I happened upon a website a few weeks ago that just might make me change my mind. Check out Lollyphile and see if you're not convinced.

Right now they only have three flavours - but probably three of the most original and awesome flavours ever created for candy. Wasabi Ginger! Absinthe! Maple Bacon?? Ok, not sure I would be all over the meat candy, BUT the other two are very, very cool. And I have to admit the whole maple bacon thing does have me intrigued, because those two flavours really are a heavenly match.

Apparently they have other flavours in the works, and visitors to the site can submit ideas for flavours too. Although, as they say in their FAQs: "...please understand that we're small, and we don't have the capacity to vacillate too far from our planned release schedule. Feel free to suggest flavors, but don't hold your breath."

I, for one, am heading there right now. The world needs a gin & tonic lollypop, people. Tell me I'm not right.

in which i ask for audience participation

2008-11-18T19:54:00.005-05:00

I've been doing quite a bit of reading lately, and because of that - and because I often forget to pick up my holds at the 'brary - I'm currently running on no books on my holds list. I'm about halfway through Child 44 by Tom Rob Smith, but once I'm finished that, I have nowhere to turn. The horror.

So I'm asking y'all, blogfriends. Have you read any good books lately? And if so, can you recommend some titles? I'll read pretty much anything from any genre (genre - isn't that such a library-world word?) except maybe romance. Don't hate, romance readers. It's just not my thang. I'll also do non-fiction too, if it's an interesting read. The sky's the limit!

So please dig into your personal libraries of favourites and help a sister out, won't you? It doesn't have to be current bestsellers; this is not a test of your knowledge of what's new and hot on the NY Times list or anything. It might be a book from 10 years ago, or 100 years ago. I just need a little jumpstart. Leave any and all recommendations in the comments, ok? I promise to repay the favour one day.

charles sees people, they may or may not be dead

2008-11-17T22:06:00.002-05:00

Nine years ago last month we moved into our current house. It's hard to believe it's been that long, but Charles was only 22 months old, and Max hadn't yet even been conceived. So yeah, this is really the only house the boys have ever known. And we like it just fine. Usually.

Shortly after we moved in, John had to go away on business - to Atlanta, I think, but that's not important. What is important is that he left us for about 5 days in this brand new old house. This new old house of ours is about 90 years old now, so take away 9 years and yeah, it's pretty old. Not old by European terms or anything, but to put it in perspective, when this house was built, our street was basically on the outskirts of the city. So for those of you who have visited, you can confirm that today there is a lot of city to be had to the west of us. So it does go back a bit.

Where was I? Oh yes, husband/father leaving wife and child in new house for 5 days to party - I mean business trip - in Atlanta.

Now, in old houses, or any house in which you are a new resident, it takes some time to get used to the noises. The settling, the creaks, the way the house feels when you're in it alone. After awhile it becomes second nature, you barely notice the noises, but at first it can freak you the fuck out.

The first night John was gone, I was a bit nervous, but Charles and I did our usual bedtime thing, which probably involved a bath, a story, maybe a bottle? I can't remember. Nine years, people, there is only so much I can remember. So things went well, I'm sure - I do remember that he was a good little guy at that age - when I'm settling him down in his crib, which is at the back of his little room, facing the door. As was my style back then, I chatted a little bit to him, we talked about our day, and then I helped him lie down for sleep. But he was focused over my right shoulder, looking at something. He pointed. "Mummy? Who's that?" I said "Just me, Charles, just mummy tonight", thinking he was waiting for John to come tuck him in. At which point he leaned way over to look around me and said "No. Who's THAT?" I turned around, and of course there was no one. So I said "No, honey, just me, sweet dreams". And then? I freaked the fuck out.

I didn't sleep much until John got home a few days later. That totally shook me up. I've read about kids being more "in tune" with the spirit world, but I seriously never thought I'd have the ghost whisperer toddler. Jesus. Even today, his earnest little face asking me very clearly who was in our hallway gives me the shakes.

As time went on, of course, we got more and more used to the house, and it's all been good, with no signs of otherworldly-ness. Except for a few things. And it's always Charles that has the experiences when it's only the two of us in the house. For instance, I've been upstairs making beds or something and he'll come running upstairs shouting "yes? Did you want something, mummy?" And I'd say "Charles, I didn't call you" and he'd stop dead and say "whoa, I totally heard a voice telling me to come upstairs". Or, I'll be in the kitchen and he'll be in the front room and I'll hear the front door open and he'll yell out "Hey, daddy, how was your day?" And then we both realize that no one actually came in the front door. Weird.

After my dad died, Charles also used to tell us that he'd see grandpa at the foot of his bed, giving him a wink and a thumbs-up. Which is totally something my dad would do. Or he'd "talk" to grandpa and he'd insist that grandpa talked back, and whether or not this really happened, we'll never know. It may have been a way to comfort himself after losing his grandpa who he was so close to. Either way, those things never freaked me out. It was actually kind of comforting for me too.

For the past year or so, there's really been nothing strange going on at our place. Well, other than the usual strangeness that is our family, of course. But then one night a few weeks ago, I was moving Max to his own bed (he likes to crawl in with Charles sometimes). I got Max settled, and must have jostled Charles a bit, because he sat up and said something. I didn't catch it at first so I asked him to repeat it. And it was this: "Those people mummy. Those two people at the end of my bed. Who are they?"

At least John was home this time.

we laughed like kids at all the silly things we did

2008-11-16T21:47:00.001-05:00

And seriously? Who doesn't love the stripes?

I know I promised you more, but yeah. I made you promises, promises...you knew I'd never keep. Why do you believe?

promises, promises

2008-11-15T21:24:00.003-05:00

Okay, blogfriends, I totally know that this is another placeholder-type blog post. One that is ridiculously light on substance, while at the same time, heavy on wtf? But I have a super-good reason. I do.

I graded today, for my orange belt in karate and it kicked my ass six ways from Sunday. There was running. And jumping. And self-defense. And a guy kicking me IN MY STOMACH. Then more running. And more self-defense. And so much else that I honestly can't remember, but that people were telling me that I did. For an hour and 45 minutes. So yeah.

Tomorrow's post will be better. I promise.

And if it's not? You can roundhouse me to the gut. Seriously. Apparently? I can take it.

you know what's fun on a Friday night?

2008-11-14T22:57:00.002-05:00

Not Tupperware parties.

People, I was seriously at one all evening. I don't care how excited the Tupperware lady gets, I just cannot get behind it. I mean it's useful and all but wow, no, it's not going to make my life THAT MUCH BETTER. It's just not.

Maybe that is a sad testament to my life, I don't know. And I don't care.

You know what is fun on a Friday night? Drinking wine. And hanging on the couch. And watching crappy TV. And knitting. Because today I learned how to knit (again, kind of) and I am on it like it's the crack I need and would sell my soul for. And you can laugh if you want, and I know my first attempts are pure ghetto, but I'll get better, I'm sure of it.

Suck it, Tupperware lady.

fulfilling the requirements

2008-11-13T22:04:00.003-05:00

Dudes. CSI tonight totally kicked my ass. Any sad or scary or icky scenario involving little boys - especially little 8-year old boys (of which I am the proud owner) - reduces me to a puddle of goo. That's right, I said goo. I can't handle it. That little boy tonight, he might as well have been Max. It just freaks me out.

I always, always hate the episodes where kids suffer, I really do. But when the sufferers are little boys, it just adds to the stress. I have the same problem watching Tommy. That shit is messed up.

Until, of course, little Tommy turns into Roger Daltrey.

Then it's all good.

Yeah. I know.

shameless plug

2008-11-12T21:32:00.003-05:00

In lieu of actual coherent thought this evening, I give you this.

This is my friend Paula's kickass website, which tells you all about her amazing soap-making (and more!) prowess. You need to check it out, her stuff is so good. Especially the soap cakes - they seriously look good enough to eat. She is coming to my house in a few weeks to showcase her wares. You're all invited, although I understand that those of you in the Pacific Northwest, Jordan, Italy and Bombay may not be able to make it (aren't you glad I signed up for Sitemeter, so I can keep track of y'all?)

Anyway, if you love the looks of her stuff, feel free to contact Paula and make some purchases. I can vouch for it all, she is one seriously talented soap-making girl. And also a lot of fun to boot.

I also just noticed that I actually used the phrase "showcase her wares". Clearly I am way too tired to be upright.

on remembering

2008-11-11T18:34:00.002-05:00

One of the most amazing stories my family has is this:

Three of my dad's brothers fought in World War II. Two of them in the army, and one in the navy. They all joined around the same time, I believe, and once they were shipped overseas, contact was lost between the three of them, as you might expect.

My dad was the youngest boy in the family, the 9th of 10 kids, and a good 15 or so years younger than his oldest brother - dad was 4 when war broke out. He remembered letters from all of his brothers, but especially from the oldest, telling the family at home what was happening, what he was up to. Sometimes he sent my dad little souvenirs of places he'd been. I wish I knew what happened to them.

Our family was fortunate in that all three brothers returned home at the end of the war. None of them liked to talk about it much, and one of my uncles suffered some serious post-traumatic stress syndrome, and was never really the same after the war ended. He struggled for the rest of his life with bouts of depression and other forms of mental illness. War will do that to you, won't it?

So as I said, the three of them shipped off, in different forces, in different sections, and they only heard about each other through letters from family members at home who would try to keep them all posted.

At one point, toward the end of the war, one of the brothers was on leave in Italy and wandered into St. Peter's square. Shockingly, he recognized another soldier there - his brother. The two of them were blown away - what a coincidence. Shortly after their reunion, they happened upon a sailor whom they both recognized. The third brother. All of them, together, standing in St. Peter's square, all on leave at the same time. Incredible. Knowing my uncles, there were likely some beers consumed and some good stories told, until once again, they would have had to part ways.

Where would their next reunion be? Would there even be one? I can only imagine their emotional state as they said their goodbyes. As I've said, we were lucky in our family. All my grandma's boys came home.

They're all gone now, including the littlest brother, my dad. On Remembrance Day, I like to think they're having yet another reunion someplace. Complete with cold beers, good stories, and lots of laughs.

Thanks, guys.

one more reason not to have your mother in the delivery room

2008-11-10T20:45:00.003-05:00

Pregnant women, listen up! Why not have an orgasm when you deliver! Really! This video shows you how! (You can also read about it on www.orgasmicbirth.com, but for some reason the website doesn't work on my computer. There are some files that I apparently don't have the gear to support. I'm actually ok with that.)

And no, I'm not making this up.

Now, I am all for the female orgasm. As a matter of fact I am a big fan of the female orgasm (duh). And if you're delivering your baby and you manage to have one, well good on you. I guess?

I don't know, people. I just think this is a LOT of pressure to put on a labouring woman. And you have to wonder, is this going to be another one of those "things" that women like to hold over other women. You know what I'm talking about:

'I was in labour for 873 hours, but I never even CONSIDERED using drugs. It's really a shame you had to have them, isn't it?"
"Oh, you gave up breastfeeding? Gee, how awful for you and for the baby, who will now likely succumb to the effects of toxic devil formula, not to mention how YOU must feel like a failure. Shame, that."

I exaggerate - but only slightly. What is it with the passive-aggressive shit?

Anyway, so now, thanks to Orgasmic Birth, will the conversations include "great that you were able to deliver naturally, but didn't you orgasm? Wow. Clearly you were doing something wrong, my birth was just rapture!"

I'm not telling you all anything new by saying that in our society there is so much pressure put on women to be so perfect all the time. To live up to ridiculous standards. And pregnant women get some of the worst shit there is - people treating their bodies as if they were some sort of freakshow and actually not attached to their person - commenting on their weight-gain, skin, how they're carrying, whether or not they're waddling, touching their belly, giving unwarranted advice. Not to mention the pressure of celebrity baby bumps and articles encouraging you with "Tips on Getting your Pre-Baby Body Back - Just like Christina, Angelina and J. Lo!!"

Birth is incredible, it's wonderful, it's miraculous. Does it have to be orgasmic too? When I read about this on Jezebel, one of the commenters said something like "how long before someone comes up with birth porn?" And I seriously wonder, probably not long. Why does everything have to be sexy? Again, I'm pro-sex and I'm pro-sexy, I just think damn, can't a girl catch a break? Isn't it enough to bring a child into the world?

So tell me, am I missing the boat on this? I mean, I don't know. I had two c-sections and trust me, there was no feeling anything below ribcage, so maybe I just missed out? Is this just unnecessary pressure, or is this something pretty amazing? The women in the video seemed to be having a good time, so...maybe?

Anyone?

holiday...celebrate...

2008-11-09T21:41:00.002-05:00

Tomorrow is a holiday for me and my hospital. I assume it has something to do with Remembrance Day, which is Tuesday. But I don't actually know for sure. On our employee calendar of statutory and other holidays, it just says "10 November - 2nd Monday in November". As if that alone should denote a holiday. So Happy 2nd Monday in November, everyone!! Weird. Anyway, whatever though, I am down with a day off. Last year it was coincidentally a PA day for the boys, so we took a mini-holiday to Great Wolf Lodge. This year though, the boys are in school, John is working, so this day is mine and mine alone!

So what am I doing? Well, I'm glad you asked! I happen to be planning to get my Toronto on with my friend K - we're doing lunch, and some shopping and just general hanging out and having fun. She has to be home early evening to get to a dodgeball game. You heard me. Girl is playing dodgeball, how cool is that? So later in the afternoon I also plan to go visit Vivian and bug her at work for a bit, after which we will probably grab a bite to eat and then head home.

The problem with days off is that they never seem to have enough hours to do all the things you can think of. So lucky for me, I'm just planning to do the fun ones. Word.

oh baby

2008-11-08T22:26:00.005-05:00

I'm just home from a kickass baby shower for a friend of mine. She hasn't quite popped her babe yet, it's due to arrive mid-December, so another friend decided she needed a night of pampering. Enter a massage therapist and two aestheticians to provide said pampering. And all the guests got to partake as well. We also got to eat Chinese food and cupcakes and drink some wine and chat. Seriously? Best baby shower. Ever. Tomorrow I have another baby shower to attend. This one though, it's in a church. There will be little sandwiches, and probably no wine. So yeah.

The crazy thing about the shower tonight though, was the stuff that the guest of honour received, that I had no clue about. No clue. Stuff that didn't exist when I was birthing my children. A Bumbo? Wow. So you know what that means, right?

I am old.

That's right, I have become the "old aunt". Everyone has them, right? The women at the baby showers who sit in rocking chairs and nod sagely and say "back when I was having babies, barley water was alllll they needed" Or: "we used to DREAM of having a crib, our babies made due with a dresser drawer and some cotton wool". *sigh*

Actually I'm not that bad. Yet. But I am still amazed by the stuff that is out there for babies today. And not in a "what the fuck, you don't need that" sort of way, but more of a "damn, I totally could have used that" sort of way.

I guess that's how it goes though. Sunrise, sunset and all that, swiftly go the years.* Even though my kids don't seem that old, in the world of "The Stuff That Babies May Or May Not Need But That We Have Invented For Parents To Buy Anyway"? They are.

And this makes me sad in a way, because I remember my own baby showers, and receiving a whole bunch of stuff that was awesome. And I remember thinking at the time "wow, that sleeper is huge, he'll never fit into that!" And now? All those sleepers are in boxes in the attic, along with all the toys, rattles, teething rings and everything else that was showered upon us.

I miss those babies of mine. But, at the same time, Charles is half-way to his black belt in karate, taking bass lessons, and is nearly as tall as me. Max is fencing, has an incredible talent for art, and possesses the world's greatest imagination.

I don't want to go back, really I don't. What I want to do? Is meet the new babies that we are all waiting for.

And part of me really wants a Bumbo.

*for the record, I hate Fiddler on the Roof with a passion, but that song just seems to sum it all up.

just call him the bird whisperer

2008-11-07T19:24:00.002-05:00

So here’s what went down in our house yesterday morning.

The alarm went off at it’s usual time, and John got up, went and started the coffee and then came back upstairs for his shower. My lazy ass stays in bed until all of these things have been accomplished. It seems to work for us.

So I was lying there, mostly awake, but still a bit drowsy, when I heard the water shut off. This is my cue to get myself up and ready, so that once John is out of the bathroom, I can head in. So far so good, right? Just a regular morning. I heard the bathroom door open and then a ruckus with John saying “oh no, not again!”

I sat right up, thinking the following in a nano-second:

the toilet has overflowed
the shower curtain rod has fallen off (this does happen, but usually only when I’m in the shower)
the bathroom door was off its hinges (this has also happened)
other random thoughts that were partially formed and involved intruders, fire, broken bones and killer bees (not that any of those have happened to us before, but did I mention this was in the morning? As in before 7am?)

So no, it was none of the above. What we had, was a bird in our house. Yes, and John was accurate in saying this, because this is the second time this has happened.

So up I get to watch a cute little bird perching and preening on one of the karate trophies in our library/guest bedroom. Adorable, right? Sure. (actually he was kind of cute) So we decided to close the door to keep him confined until we figured out what to do. In the meantime I decided I probably should have my shower, so as to keep on schedule for getting to work, etc.

Shower completed, I headed back to the bedroom to be greeted by “flap flap flap” – a bird between our blinds and the window, trying desperately to get out.

Wha'?? The bird was contained, what’s going on? I checked the door – closed. I looked underneath – not big enough for a bird to get through. People, that’s right, we had a second bird in our house which seemed to be turning into an aviary by the minute.

So I called down to John telling him that either we had a second bird or we had a super-powered-doorknob-opening bird. John came up and determined we had two. Great.

So John's plan was to close all the doors to the bedrooms and the bathroom, and then just open the front door. The bird will only have one path to follow, so he’ll take it and fly right out.

A most excellent plan. I stood in the boys’ room with the door closed and listened to the master at work:

John: *opening the first door* ok, hello bird – psst psst psst – come on, now, that’s it go go, psst psst. Great! That’s one! *opening the next door* ok now, psst psst, come on little buddy, let’s go, outside you go psst psst…

This was all said in very loving tones, very quietly, so as not to startle the birds, but caused me to laugh my freezing ass off while I stood in the other bedroom in my towel.

But it gets better:

John: ok now, come on – oh no, no don’t go in there! aaargh – he’s in the closet

(by this point my stomach hurts from laughing)

John: birds is so stupid.

Now I am full on laughing with tears at the hilarity of it all. Finally the second bird made its exit and all returned to normal.

Did I mention that all of this was prior to 7am?

So once we got downstairs, we started debriefing.

me: weird, huh? That's the second time we've had birds that seem to come from nowhere
John: yeah, but this time they were two different species
me: how do you know?
John: one was bigger than the other one
me: huh. *pondering the significance of the species difference while silently laughing at myself for wondering if there is significance and at John for even bringing up the species thing, because really?*

Later still, once we'd all had breakfast and I was getting ready to head out the door, John said he had to throw a shirt in the dryer.

John: but I’m kind of wary of going down to the basement, because that’s where those other birds came in too, right? I don’t want them to go all Hitchcock on my ass.

Seriously. Just when I thought the morning couldn't get any funnier.

As of now and forever more, any group of birds coming near me will be considered as “going Hitchcock on my ass”.

I could not make this up.

getting ready for camping

2008-11-06T22:15:00.003-05:00

So John and I camp once each year. This is a tradition with some of our friends, and we look forward to Labour Day just for this reason. John has a spreadsheet, people - a spreadsheet with all the gear and food we need. The man has it down to a science, really. Because it's 500% fun. Last year we got a palatial new tent, oh we were the envy of the campers! A few years ago we got a drip coffee maker for our Coleman stove - really!

You can tell, of course, that we're not hardcore campers, right?

Anyway, I thought this little gadget would be perfect for our late-night bonfires when we're drinking and snacking:

A cooler light! It's brilliant!

You can read more about it here, along with many other gadgets that real campers would probably scoff at. Whatev. We rock the Provincial Park. And we leave it nice and tidy afterwards.

it's a beautiful day in the neighbourhood

2008-11-05T21:33:00.002-05:00

And not just because Obama was elected last night. Although that, of course, truly helps. Did anyone else see this article? (in my local paper, but picked up from LA). Astounding. Like I needed another reason to get all emotional today. And hopefully it's for reals, unlike the fake David Lee Roth stories from a couple of months ago. Oy.

But! The other reason it's a beautiful day is this:

Speedy Delivery: The Movie

It's Mr. McFeely, people! On the big screen! Ok, not really, I think it's a DVD release - but still! The man who delivered the post for 40 years. Props are due.

Watch the trailer, and see if you too don't get all emotional.

I think I'm going to be riding this wave of emotion for a few days yet.

207!

2008-11-04T22:37:00.003-05:00

Okay, I know the magic number is 270, but still, I'm pretty chuffed for y'all down there.

We're watching election coverage on CBC Newsworld. I don't know where else to watch it. CNN is too freaking loud - all those people, they just keep yelling! Really, people? Calm the fuck down. So CBC it is, and it's pretty good. I did notice something funny though - if you look at the tiny little photo of McCain at the bottom of the screen and then look up at Peter Mansbridge? I don't know, man. The similarities are way too close, or is it just me? Or maybe it's just the wine? Whatever. All I know is that you never see them together...hmmm....

Anyway, rock on USA. I've always been a fan, but tonight I feel like "Ich bin ein Amerikaner" or something. And seriously, the whole record number voter turnout thing? Fucking yes. Hi, Canadian people? Yeah, we should totally take a page out of that book after our seriously shitty voter turnout last month.

Oh and by the way, is anyone else enjoying Ian Hanomansing's commentary and interviews as much as I am? Can I get a witness? Awww yeah.

getting Feisty

2008-11-03T14:00:00.001-05:00

Posting quickly today from work (shhhhhh!) And so you know, the “shhhh” is in reference to the fact that technically I’m not supposed to be blogging from work, and not in reference to the fact that I work in a library where silence is de rigueur, okay? Capice?

Okay, now we’ve got that out of the way, I really just need to tell you that after work today I will be boarding a GO bus to Toronto, meeting up with Vivian where we will then be grabbing some dinner, and making our way to the ACC to see Feist in concert! I’m excited!

This show will probably round out the “Elizabeth and Vivian Year of Seeing as Many Concerts as Humanly Possible Before Vivian Births Her Baby Some Time in Early January”. It all started in April, and it’s really been a fantastic wild ride of excellent live music with my great friend, and I’m getting a bit misty-eyed thinking that this may be the end for a good long while. Of course you never know what shows might be announced between now and baby’s arrival, so there’s still a slight possibility that we’ll hit a couple more gigs, I suppose.

After all, I did promise to make her a labour and delivery music playlist. Does it matter if we’re hearing it live at a club downtown?

still with the hallowe'en theme

2008-11-02T19:09:00.002-05:00

One of my favourite Hallowe'en specials has to be "It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown". It's a classic, of course, and I'm sure you've all seen it. It's the usual philosophical Linus, ever-faithful to his beliefs, and you have to respect a dude like that, really. No matter how much the other Peanuts mock him, he is steadfast. In a way, he's a bit of a zealot, but somehow he just never crosses that line. Or maybe I just don't want him to? In any case, it's a great show, and one that the boys enjoy as well, so it's become one that we watch as a family each year.

I don't know about you, but I noticed a severe lack of Hallowe'en specials on TV this year. I know there aren't as many of those as there are Christmas specials, but I seem to recall others, and for whatever reason (I blame that whole election thing to the south of us), there just weren't any on television. Of course we have basic cable, so maybe those of you in digital/satellite/awesome television land were better off? Anyway, lucky for us, someone has created this to jog our collective memories. How excited was I to remember some of these awesome specials! Fat Albert? Raggedy Ann? Paul freaking Lynde?? This is a goldmine, people. And the best part, for me, was the inclusion of Witch's Night Out. Oh, how my brother and I would wax nostalgic about this special! And yet neither of us could really remember much about it (save the theme song) and we never, ever met anyone else who could even corroborate that this show existed. Did we co-dream it? Did one of us just make it up, and the other believed them? No! It really happened! It was real! And it starred Gilda Radner and Catherine O'Hara! So not only did we remember it, it also had awesome casting!

So thank you, Adam Selzer. Clearly my childhood wasn't quite as messed up as I thought it might have been.

you had me at NaBloPoMo

2008-11-01T10:44:00.004-04:00

I hope y'all got your trick-or-treat on last night. The weather was perfect for being outdoors, and our neighbourhood goes crazy with the Hallowe'en shiz. There's one street just over from us where nearly every house does something full-on - like a maze to get to the veranda, a haunted veranda, crypts, zombies wandering around. It's kickass. Makes our solitary little jack-o'lantern look pretty sad indeed. But the boys had fun, and the nice thing about Hallowe'en street is that that's the only place the boys want to go, and so once we're done, we're done. Less than 1 hour, people. We don't mess around. You can tell by looking at Charles that he doesn't mess around, right?

Rebel without a cause:

Super Mario:

One down! Expect more of the same stimulating and informative posts, people! I need to do this 29 more times, yo.

oh great

2008-10-29T21:12:00.002-04:00

So. Y'all are NaBloPoMoing, or at least thinking about it, right? Great. As discussed last year at this very time, and the year before that, even, I am all about the "cool kids and what they're doing". This does not bode well for raising my boys, really, does it? Can't you just hear it:

boys: "but mummy, EVERYONE is jumping off bridges!"
me: "OMG, well if EVERYONE is doing it, you guys TOTALLY have to!! You probably should also smoke some weed too, because eventually all the cool kids will be doing that TOO!"

Wow.

Anyway, so I'm thinking about it. Let's see how it goes, shall we?

In other tasty news, I made paneer on the weekend, and it rocks. It's actually simmering nicely now in a batch of saag paneer which I am about to go and eat.

I wonder if I could spend November blogging about what I'm about to eat? Would you read that?

Yeah. Me neither.

"m" is for the million ways he loooves me...

2008-10-06T18:56:00.003-04:00

Walking home from school today:

max: So do you know what my name means?
me: Um - no?
max: Well, the "M" is for mature - because I think I'm pretty mature, don't you?
me: Actually, yeah.
max: And the "A" is - uh....
me: Athletic?
max: Yeah! I'm pretty athletic.
me: You sure are.
max: And the "X" - well, there aren't many words that are descriptive that start with "X" so let's say...um...eXtreme!
me: Cool. But what about the rest of your name, like if you used your whole name - what about "W"?
max: Hmmm....wacky.
me: Good one. And "E"?
max: Energetic! Because that describes me!
me: Definitely. How about "L"?
max: Hmmmm.....well....
me: I know! Lovable! Because you are definitely that!
max: Definitely. And for the second "L"...
me: Hmmm.....
max: Well, I was going to say lackey.
me: *laughing* Really?
max: Yeah. But that's really more of a description of you.
me: Wow. Really.
max: Yep. Really.

Nice.

behold...

2008-09-26T23:04:00.005-04:00

...my pathetic attempt to photodocument my trip to Michigan:

Here we have the selection of hot sauces at a very excellent and rather authentic Mexican restaurant in Greenville. And yes, I used them all during the course of my tasty meal. And yes, they were all pretty damned hot. But good. But I have to say that the green one? Just not a colour you see in nature. Kind of teal, actually. Weird. Tasty-weird. I am a sucker for hot sauces, so hence my documentation. What you can't actually see in this photo is the margarita the SIZE OF MY HEAD that I demolished in seconds flat, after which my wonderful friend had to put up with my ramblings. Oh those Canadians.

Next is the souvenir-gift I brought home for the boys - it's cheese! In a spray can! For real! Okay, I'm not such an idiot that I didn't know this stuff existed, it's just that it's unavailable where I live, and really, what could be a better gift to bestow upon two boys than cheese that you can apply directly into your mouth? 2 for $5 at Meijer. Now, I call that a bargain. Beats the hell out of any t-shirt or souvenir mug I could have brought, non? I do believe the words "you are the best mother EVER" accompanied the bestowing. I do what I have to, people.

Last but not least is my absolute favourite - FAVOURITE - road sign. Ever. I have seen this a bunch of times, driving along the I-69, and while I know it's coming up, I tend to forget until it's too late and I'm past it going "shit, I wanted to take a pictuuuuuure!! For my blogpeeps!! Damn." But this time? Oh this time, friends. I documented. And really, isn't it cool? And some seriously good advice, you have to admit.

Now, lest you think my trip to the Great Lakes Great Times state was all about cheese and sauce and prison hitchhikers, let me just say what a positively excellent time I had. We had fantastic weather and we did a lot of sightseeing. I should have taken more photos, but such is the case when you're just having too much fun, you get lost in the moment, and then a photo seems kind of cheesy. Which is ok if the photo is cheese (see above). But otherwise, it's just not right. At one point, and I can't remember where, we did drive past a church that had a sign inviting us to visit God's Love Closet. I'm pretty sure that's what it said, anyway. Did I mention the margarita? I really wanted a picture of that, because seriously, what does that even mean? I can think of a few things. But standing on church property and taking a photo of a sign, just for giggles? Well, even I have some standards.

Living where I do, in between two Great Lakes (Erie and Ontario for those of you not in the know), I always feel so comfortable knowing there is a lake close by. Does that seem strange? It probably should. And not just any lake but a great lake. Not like little lakes you can see across - those are ok, but they're just not great. But just my friend saying "so if we drove down that way" and pointing toward a large highway "we would get to Lake Michigan". And my great lake groupie self wanted to say "yes! Let's drive to the great lake!" It's like when she and I went to Cleveland and we were on the shore and I was thinking "man, this is my lake, where my cottage is, but I'm on the other side!" Comforting. Totally bizarre, I'm sure. But comforting to me, nonetheless.

So thanks, Carly, for a loverly time in your awesome state, and your pretty hometown. You Michigan types know how to show a girl a good time.

off 2 MI

2008-09-05T13:24:00.005-04:00

So I'm taking a little trip this weekend, off to visit my friend in Michigan. It's approximately 5 hours in the car (not counting border wait times) with just me and my thoughts, so let's hope the blogging gods are good to me, k? I'm sure I'll come back with somethang to tell y'all about, not to mention some photographic evidence of my time not only in smalltown MI where my friend lives, but also in large city MI, where we'll be getting our eating and shopping on. Plus, I will be going through - or around, maybe? - Flint, so I'll get to say to no one in particular "hey, that's where Librarian Girl is from!" Coolness.

Also, can I just say that my husband got called a propellerhead at work yesterday. And he took it as a compliment. Dude is weird. Probably why we get along so well.

Happy weekend, blogfriends.

80s religion

2008-08-15T19:10:00.003-04:00

So we were in Niagara Falls yesterday, checking out the scene. Basically? It's the same as ever, just in case you were wondering. The Falls, they are shifting, but really not like you'd notice. Water still flows nonstop over the edge, into the gorge below. People get soaked in a boat called the Maid of the Mist. Once in awhile, some asshat decides to go over the edge. It's all good in the Falls, yo. And you can probably get a t-shirt or a giant pencil that says so.

Anyway, so we were there yesterday for the second time with the boys. The first time, they just weren't interested. It's weird, because you think "man, this is crazy!" and then you're there with a 5- and 3-year old and they're all "seriously? it's water. can we have ice cream?". And then, a few years later, they are completely blown away by the awesomeness that is the Falls. So that part was cool, because their reactions were stellar.: "The water? Look! It just keeps coming!" "Whoa, look at the mist! We're soaked! Is this for real??" You get the idea.

So of course we went to the Hard Rock Cafe for lunch, which was cool and ridiculously overpriced but whatever, they have Bo Diddley's guitar, people. And they have Hard Rock TV playing throughout, in case you've never been to a HRC. So it's the whole experience, no matter that it costs you $90 for lunch. And one of the videos that was playing was this. And then that got me thinking of this, Cos you know, it's got the whole "church" reference. And then, that actually led to this, because, you know, same title and all. And then? Well, then it led to more Alphaville, as it does. And then I started thinking. That was pretty much all the churching I got in the 80s. Uh huh. Guess that explains it all. Yes it does.

she bangs

2008-07-31T21:46:00.002-04:00

Whoa nelly, has it been hot out there, or is it just me? Damn. Now don't get me wrong, this is not complaining, oh no no NO. The heat, she and I are friends. I'm just saying man, wow. Hi, summer? Freaking LOVE you! What I don't actually love are my hometown peeps who be walking around practically nekkid. Good people of Hamilton, please! Put some clothes on! Do y'all have this in your town? The guy in the grey workshirt who wears it completely unbuttoned, with the fish belly white beer gut just a-hangin' out? Or hell, why not just take it all off, fish belly man! That's the way! Oy. Remember Gwen Jacob being charged with indecency for being topless on the streets of Guelph, which sparked the fight for the right for women to go topless in Ontario, should they want to? (it's true, by the way, we can totally do that here). What we now need is the anti-Gwen-for-men - which even sounds awesome - because man, some dudes really just need to keep their shirts on, is all I'm saying.

ANYway, so it's hot and sticky and really, what better way to celebrate this weather than by getting a haircut, which is what I did this evening. Nothing like little bits of hair stuck to you on the bus ride home. Mmm mmm! I really do love getting my hair cut though, and my hair stylist, friend, and owner of the salon where I go, is second to none. She rocks. And the appointment started out just great - chit-chat while I got in the chair, swoop on the cape, brush out the hair and then the usual question from her: "So...what are you thinking?" And then I said those three little words that carry so much weight, that can make or break a deal, and really shouldn't be said lightly: "I'm thinking bangs!" Whoa. Did that really come out of my mouth?? And it's true, I had been thinking bangs. For awhile. But I still wasn't sure, and then I said that. And she said: "Okay, cool." And that's how it started.

And really, is anything more debated and more discussed about women's hair than bangs? To bang or not to bang. I'm getting bangs. I'm growing mine out. Bangs suit you. I don't have enough forehead for bangs, but they totally look great on you. No, they're not too short. I need to have my bangs trimmed. It goes on, doesn't it? You know it does.

I'm no stranger to bangs, I've rocked them before without issue. Just regular bangs, though NOT gigantic 80s bangs. Remember those? Half a can of French Formula just to get those suckers to stay in place? Most of my highschool classmates were flammable beyond belief. Seriously, I can't believe we were ever allowed to use bunsen burners in the 80s.

Anyway, I had bangs all through highschool, but they were short and neat and stayed on my forehead. In grade nine, shoulder length hair. And bangs. In grade 10, unfortunate perm. And bangs. In grade 11 & 12, the classic bob. With bangs. In grade 13, shoulder length hair. With bangs. All through uni - bangs. In adulthood I've been back and forth with bangs, but usually with shortish hair. Now, though, my hair is long, people. Well, ok long-ish. As in to my shoulers. So, bangs? Really? Can I pull that off a la Bettie Page? Kim said I could. So then she cut them.

Now I have to wear them, and I have to admit, they're cute. Charles tells me "You look 5 years younger!" Wow, 5 whole years! Although he's 10, so that's half his life, so that's a big deal. Translated into mom years, maybe he means I look 20 years younger. Which would almost, but not quite, take me back to highschool. So maybe it's time for bangs again. Circle of life - er - bangs. Maybe it's time to even bust out the Howard Jones records again. (possibly the best bangs on a guy ever). And in case you need it, you can still get French Formula. Ooh-la-la.

an open letter to matt galloway of "here and now"

2008-07-08T17:31:00.002-04:00

Dear Matt,

I try to like your show, I really, really do. For the most part, I think it's good - you often have interesting guests, and you usually play very good music as well. Sure, the topics are a little Toronto-centric, but hey, it's a Toronto show, so that does make sense. I can even tolerate your "devil's advocate" style of interviewing, because I understand that this can be a great way of getting politicians and other figures to actually answer questions in the 2.5 minutes you typically have with them. And finally, I can usually ignore the pompous tone that so much of your show takes. Again, it's Toronto! I get it!

What I can no longer tolerate, and the reason today is likely the last time I will listen to your show, is your daily invitation for people to "Google" - and not just "Google" subjects or topics, but actual websites. Today, for instance, after speaking with the Ontario Human Rights Commissioner, you asked people who might be interested in finding out more information about the new report dealing with discrimination in housing to "Google ontario human rights commission". Seriously? Aside from your use of Google as a verb (which annoys the hell out of me, but since I appear to be in a tiny minority, I will let that slide) honestly, what's wrong with spelling out the website for people? Now, I understand that chances are if you do type this into Google, you will mostly likely find the website at the top of the list. But this is a government department, so the chances are good. What about other sites? What about people who aren't sure of the spelling of the words that you're speaking over the radio? What if you told your audience to "Google Falun Gong?" Would everyone even know how to spell that?

Google is ubiquitous. I am a fan of Google. Google can help you find good things. But Google is a tool, like any other search engine, and I think you are doing your audience and your guests a disservice by telling them to "Google" everything. If your guest has a website, or their cause or their political party or whatever has a website, I think you owe it to them to spell it out, in order to direct people straight to it. I'm just saying.

And for the record, http://www.ohrc.on.ca/

e-L

three reasons i am the luckiest woman in the world

2008-07-02T20:16:00.002-04:00

Right there.

This photo was taken on the day of Charles' Grade 5 Celebration. That's right, my firstborn is off to middle school in September. Seriously, how does that even happen? You can't see it in the pic, but the boy was totally rocking a nice new pair of Chuck Taylors. Too cool for school? Hells yeah, that's my boy.

So, school's out baby, and we are in full-on summer mode around these parts, complete with a trip to the cottage (and the promise of more cottage in the near future), kickass Canada Day fireworks last night, some outdoor concerts coming up and a whole hella lot more. Hope y'all are feeling the summer vibe too, doing what you love to do best.

In other news, can I just say I was pretty damned pleased to see Dr. Henry Morgentaler appointed to the Order of Canada? Can I? I guess I just did. I've linked to the CBC article for your convenience, and there's some more stuff there about the Dr. M., for those of you unfamiliar with the man. Just be aware that the article includes quotes from a representative of the Campaign Life Coalition, which may cause pro-choicers to bang their heads against keyboards and poke their eyes out with sharp sticks. Or maybe that's just me?

Happy summer, blogfriends. Let's tear it up!

genre bending

2008-06-11T19:41:00.003-04:00

This post is brought to you by a conversation at a friend's house last Saturday night, a recent post by the ever-eloquent Pop Culture Librarian, and my favourite book blog Bookslut (eyes right, and ye shall see the link for clicking). See how I'm always aware how situations can link up and provide me with blog fodder? Impressed? I thought so.

The whole "stuff" issue in LG's post was spot on, as I am a huge stuff-hater, although I wasn't always this way. At the present time I'm constantly in the process of paring down stuff, simplifying stuff, throwing out stuff, giving away stuff and refusing to bring stuff into my home. This is just a choice I've made over the past few years, and it's working well for me. I used to be more pro-stuff, but having acquired two stuff-magnets (aka small children) the whole issue of stuff has become a boil on a sensitive area of my person, and I really, really cannot handle the stuff. (seriously, I'm going to try not to say "stuff" again in this post.)

The thing that really hit home in the post is the bit about the books. I don't buy books either. Books are given to me as gifts, but honestly? For me myself, I just don't buy them. I'll buy books for the boys (Scholastic school book orders anyone?) and the purchase of a book is often an event celebrating an awesome test result, a newly-earned karate belt, or some other such occasion. But for me? I just don't want to own books. There, I said it. My books come from the library, and are returned to said library once I have finished reading them.

Lots of people are book buyers, and more power to them. In the conversation at my friend's house, our lovely hostess was talking about almost-receiving a Sony Reader for Mother's Day (I say almost because the Sony Store just is not down with the whole "sure it will be in for this special day") because she's a book buyer, and the Reader means downloading books at a likely less expensive rate, and also no clutter for bookshelves. (I am paraphrasing and probably not well - I had rocked a couple of gin & tonics prior to this conversation, so I can't account for total accuracy) I can totally respect this. And I might eventually even be able to get behind the idea of the Reader or the Kindle. But for now, library books r us. I mean me. Whatever.

Now those of you who know I work in a library are probably nodding sagely and thinking "ah, she's supporting the public library system, no wonder she isn't a book buyer", and you're partly right. I've always been a fan of the public library and the services it provides. I am fortunate enough to live in a large city with one of the best library systems in the province, so hells yeah I am going to take advantage of what I got. The other part of the equation has to do with just honestly not wanting to own books, and the last part of the equation has to do with Bookslut.

Bookslut's blog is one of the feeds I get in Bloglines, and while I used to subscribe to dozens of book blogs, I've slowly been paring them down one by one, until I was left with only Bookslut. Basically, this is the site that has recommended (or steered me away from) many, many books over the past couple of years. When I read a review and think "yeah, I need to read that" I go straight to My Account at the public library's website, log in (I have my library card barcode number memorized awww yeah), search the book, and request it. Seriously. Sometimes, if it's a super popular bestseller type, I will be have the dubious honour of learning that my "Position in Request Queue" is... 165. Am I depressed that it could take months to get this book? Nah. At any given time I have - on average - 20-25 books on request. That's right, people. And about once every 2-3 weeks, one of those books becomes available to me. I go to my branch, check it out, read it and bring it back. And by then another book is on deck, and it's all just so good.

One of the things I love about Bookslut is the fact that no genre is applied to any of the books being reviewed. The labels - Mystery, Fantasy, Historical Fiction, Romance - are never used, and time and again this has proven a very good thing. When I browse library or bookstore shelves, I am always irked - that's right I said irked - by genres. And while I understand the necessity of giving labels to books, to help direct readers to the type of book they like, I also think the same labels can do an injustice to the books in question, and can eliminate potential readers, based on the genre to which they've been assigned.

Case in point. In a recent Bookslut entry, the book The End of Mr. Y was spoken of rather highly. I followed the link to the Amazon.com entry for it, read the blurb (still one of the strangest words in the English language), and went immediately to my library page and requested it. It's a couple of years old, so it didn't take much time until it was available for me to pick it up. I drove to the library to retrieve it, and as I was checking it out, I noticed the label on the spine: Science Fiction. Dude. I do not read Science Fiction. Ever. WTF? But the review was so good, and the blurb (hee!) so interesting, that I took it home and read it. And. I really, really liked it.

Having read it, I think probably the Science Fiction genre label was a fairly decent call, but there was so much more to the book that what is normally deemed Science Fiction. I'm sure someone did their absolute best in assigning the label, but if I had seen that book on the shelf with the blue SF spine label? I would have walked right by it, without a second glance.

I guess my point, if I have one here, is that it's always good to think outside your genre, whether you're a book buyer or a book borrower. As I said, I've never been a fan of the whole labelling of fiction, and I continue to take particular offense to the genre of "Canadian Fiction" - um, Canadian authors write in a whole range of genres, thanks. I still kind of feel bad about the argument I had with my genre fiction instructor in my library program over this very topic. I'm sure she's recovered by now - physically if not emotionally.

So really, if you're a lover of the written word, it really doesn't matter, does it? Where it comes from, in what format it's written, whether or not you own it, what label it's been given. But I'm going to leave you with a dare. Dare you to read something outside your comfort level. Dare you to read in a format you've never considered. Dare you to read a book from your local library, should you not be a library user. And me? I might just get myself to Indigo and buy something. Double-dog-dare.

Oh, and I'm painfully aware that in the last half of this post, I substituted "stuff" for "genre". Sorry.

so...tired...

2008-05-25T17:51:00.005-04:00

Okay, people. I am beyond exhausted. Is there another word for that? For something beyond exhausted? I don't know, and I'm too tired to look it up. Here's what went down to create such tiredness of biblical proportion:

Thursday night's karate class, in which we threw ourselves (voluntarily, I might add) down to the ground in a punishment known as a breakfall - back, left side, and right side. The throw down isn't the hard part, it's really the springing back up in order to do it again that gets you. In the quads, mostly, but also in other muscle groups that up until now, had remained hidden to me. So yeah, the throwing down, the springing up, the throwing down and springing up - about 75 times. For real. And yes, I often do question why it is I pay someone to have me do this. I'm an enigma.

Yesterday's kickboxing class where all of the previously hidden muscle groups were brought out, stomped upon and then twisted up some more, causing me to have difficulty holding a water bottle, and going up and down stairs. We have a 3-level house. See above comment about paying.

The gardening that I so bravely attempted today, even though I've been feeling like roadkill. I managed to (with the help of my mother) take down most of a tree, expand an already large-ish flower bed, topsoil said flower bed, de-weed the driveway and environ, dig and install a border dividing our front lawn basically in half in preparation for grass elimination and mulch spreading. Topping up yet another flower bed with topsoil and then cleaning up from the day's activities.

Oof.

I did, however, want to come on here in order to congratulate ML for her winning entry for the Conrad Black contest. About freaking time, I know. And I apologize. But! The prison nickname that cracked my shit up completely was "Black Velvet, if you please". Because, come on! That is serious Canadian Content right there! An Alannah Myles reference, in relation to Connie? Give it up people! It also conjures up some awesomely awful images of Con in jail, that I am going to leave you to ponder on your own, as per my dedication to classiness in this here blog.

So the moment you've all been waiting for.... ML wins this fabulous prize:

That's right! It's a set of ironic magnets! Clever! Anyway ML, this will be on its way to you shortly. (actually I'll probably just bring it to your house next weekend)

I would also like to offer a congratulations to our runner up kibi for the entry Conrad, the Rad-con - because that is also quite excellent, and a very awesome play on word. And kibi joined the game all the way from Israel, and considering I had no idea this was an intercontinental blog, I'm tickled. Seriously.

So thanks for playing along. I will be back with another timely contest at a later date. Right now though? If I can summon the strength, there is a bottle of pinot grigio with my name on it.

i can haz hrmnz? plz?

2008-05-04T10:39:00.004-04:00

O hai! Sorry it's been so long between posts, but I've been busy losing my fucking mind! For reals!

As you may know, just over three years ago, I had surgery to remove some of my ladyparts. Specifically the part that houses the unborn, should there be unborn to house. Two pregnancies and some other complications left me with a lot of problems in the nether regions, so it was determined this was the best course of action to relieve some pretty debilitating symptoms.

Okay, so if you thought that part was an overshare? You might want to stop reading now. I'm just sayin'.

Anyway, the rest of the bits were left intact, leaving me (according to my gyn) with normal function (whatever that is). Basically? It means that while I wasn't plunged straight into menopause (yay!) it became a lot more difficult to keep track of certain hormonal things that happen on a regular basis (boo!). As my husband so brilliantly put it: "same sentence, no punctuation." So for awhile, I did my best to keep tabs on things, and I pretty much was able to for that first year. "Wow, why am I so crabby and wanting to mainline salt and vinegar chips and Mars bars simultaneously?" Ah. *count count count* Okay. Makes sense now."

After the first year, things began to get a bit hazy and I just kind of had to roll with whatever the hormones threw at me. And it seemed to work out ok, I've managed to live a normal life, with the occasional normal monthly cravings, bloating and other normal stuff. Normal normal!
Over the past few months though, I've noticed that some of my normal symptoms have gone off the charts. And! There are new symptoms that have added themselves to the party! Is it hot in here, or is it just me?! Not to mention that this craziness happens more often than just once a month! What is up with this shit?? So, as is my style, I did a bit of research.

And, you probably already guessed it blogfriends. e-L learned that she is officially on the downward spiral to menopause hell. The official term is perimenopause, apparently. How quaint. At first I didn't believe it. Pshaw I said! This cannot be. I am only 41. I deluded myself for about 2 weeks. And then? Then, I had some kind of crazy raging hormonal frenzy fest that included actual throwing of oven mitts, stomping upstairs like an irate toddler, culminating in full-on face down on the bed sobbing and full body shaking that I just could not stop. Good times.

Apparently denial wasn't working for me.

I think the worst thing about this is the lack of control. I'm a fairly even-tempered person, by nature, and it usually takes a lot to get me riled up. And, even when I do lose my shit, I can almost always talk myself down from the ledge. With this stuff though, I don't know. It's just different. It's probably something I can learn to live with - I guess I have no choice. And from what I've read there are some good strategies to help deal with symptoms, but man. What a drag it is getting old. And boy howdy does it make me feel old. If lack of control is the worst part of this ordeal, the whole getting old part is a close second. Nothing like learning you're slipping into menopause to make you feel like a dried up shell of a woman.

Now don't get me wrong, I'm still vibrant! And sensational, even! And if I can keep a sense of humour about all this, I think I'll make out just fine. I can even think of myself as a trailblazer for all my friends - a pioneer, as it were. See? Just thinking about all the good I can do to help others makes me feel better already!

And if that doesn't work out? What's that federal department the US has - Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms? I'm gonna go party with those dudes.

girl, crushing

2008-04-02T21:10:00.011-04:00

Y'all know about the girl crush, right? The person who you kind of adore from afar, who has their shit together; you admire them, you may try to emulate their style. It's not that you want to necessarily be that person, it's more of an infatuation with them - usually not in a sexual way - unless that's the way you roll, of course. My girl crushes tend to all be about attitude and confidence and style and talent in kind of the "damn she's good" way. However you look at it, I think the girl crush is a positive thing. So...

My first girl crush was my grade 7 teacher. It was perfect timing for me, as I had left my regular school after grade 6 to attend "the gifted program" at another school across the city. I know you're probably all "Dude, you were gifted? For real?" And yeah, I guess I was. But I didn't last long at gifted school, because I missed my people. It wasn't as though it was all "wrong-side-of-the-tracks girl goes to uppity prep school" or anything. It was more like "wrong-side-of-the-tracks girl goes to other wrong-side-of-the-tracks school for slightly more advanced book-learning". But whatev, I missed my friends and alla that. I left after about 6 weeks and went back to my school that I never should have left in the first place. One day I'll have to do a whole post on my 6 whole weeks of giftedness, but for now, back to the girl crush.

My teacher Miss C. was all sorts of awesome. She had this great wardrobe, with like 18 different pairs of funky leather boots and tons of chic clothes. She was from Toronto. She drove a freaking Camaro - the hottest car circa 1978, right? She smoked. Ok that part - not so cool I guess, but 30 years ago (ohmychrist, 30 years? oy.) the whole smoking thing was still sort of bohemian and decadent, and it just seemed so cool and so stick it to the man, you know, when you're a teacher and all. Because I had been gone for the first part of the school year, I was considered a transfer student, and even though everyone knew me, they still kind of treated me like the "new kid". Which sucked, but Miss C. saw that the cliques, they had been formed, and I spent until Christmas being "the new kid", so she kind of took me under her very stylish wing, and we bonded. Or at least I did. I adored everything about her, and really just basked in her awesomeness. She left the following year, which was sad, but we actually kept in touch via letters and the occasional phone call for quite awhile. And any time the retro-70s fashions reappear in magazines and stores, I think of her and her bitchin style.

Other girl crushes have come and gone, and the most recent ones include fabulous Canadian soprano Measha Brueggergosman (have you heard this woman? And have you been astounded at how fabulous she is? Totally crush-worthy for SO many reasons) and the woman in my neighbourhood who drinks really expensive wine (have stood behind her in line the LCBO so I know), has a kickass wardrobe, and drives a flame red Vespa in the warm months (which apparently we don't get to have around here anymore.) So there you have a few of my favourite girls over the past 30 (ouch) years or so. You may have your own girl crush stories, and I hope you do. And probably? One or two of them turn out like the story I am about to tell...

One day a few weeks ago, I was at work and standing in line for coffee, just minding my own business, when a young woman approached me. She looked vaguely familiar, so I smiled, and as soon as I did, this is what happened:

her: OMG hi!
me: hey, how are you?
her: OMG I'm great, thanks! How are you??
me: Oh - good, thanks.
her: That's great! Um - well, you probably don't recognize me, but I sometimes take the bus? And you're usually there at the stop, and you always look so cool, you know, wearing all black, you know, which is cool, and OMG I just love your boots! And you know, you've got your iPod - probably listening to something cool, of course right?? Of course haha! And you know, I've always wanted to say hey, and whatever but I never have, but anyway, I just wanted to say I think your sunglasses are so awesome, and well, I just wanted to say hi!
me: Wow. Um - thanks.

She went on with a bit more of the same while I paid for my coffee and then gave me a wave and left.

Dude. Could it be? Could it be, that I might actually be the subject of a girl crush? This is something in all my years of crushing that never once occurred to me. Seriously, this could be huge. I mean, maybe I'm like, projecting or something but what if I'm not? What if, for real, this girl thinks I am all that? I mean, with great power comes great responsibility, right? And really, um - me? Wow. So yeah, I don't know. I mean it's cool and all and totally flattering. Me, as girl-crush-worthy. Well, to be honest, it really made my day.

But, what if she ever finds out I was probably listening to, I don't know, Gordon Lightfoot or something?!

I'm totally busted.

quirky is as quirky does

2008-04-01T21:12:00.007-04:00

So ML tagged me in the "6 quirky things" meme, and I was all "wha'?" e-L has no quirks. And then I thought "Oh yeah, there's that. Oh, and that. Right, that too..." So, um *ahem*. Watch me quirkify. Don't say I didn't warn you.

#1 I need to purchase a new toothbrush every 10 days to 2 weeks. You know how on the package it says "replace every 3 months" or something like that? Nunh-uh. No way. Once a bristle gets bent or there is toothpaste residue on it? It's history to me. Now, in my defense (something tells me I'm going to say that a lot in this post) in my highschool days I had a lot of coldsores - like monthly - at the same time as, you know, that other monthly thing that makes highschool so freaking awkward. So yeah, I was a hot mess back then. And my dentist advised me to get a new toothbrush whenever I got a coldsore, so as not to spread the virus love around. So the habit stayed, and now it's kind of obsessive - or quirky. I prefer quirky.

#2 Whenever I see an acronym, I must know what the letters stand for. For real. For instance? OHLA. Ontario Hospital Library Association. PPCLI. Princess Patricia's Canadian Light Infantry. I can not rest until I know. And if I don't know? I make it up. So PPCLI could also be Ping Pong Champions of Long Island. (note: that one isn't mine, but isn't it awesome?) Maybe it's because I spent a lot of time in the military where it's all acronyms all the time. And also, I now work in libraries where - well, same thing. Also? Conversely, whenever I see a list of words, I try to form an acronym. And there are bonus points (in my head) whenever it's something really funny or dirty or something. Like on the bus the other day, I noticed a meter maid - or bylaw officer, I guess is the PC (politically correct) term - and they are known as Provincial Offences Officers. Or? POO for short. See? Awesomely funny. Apparently I am also a 10 year old boy.

#3 I stopped eating meat over 15 years ago, but I have a very, very hard time resisting a good Genoa salami. Make. What you will. Of that.

#4 I hate having the bathroom door open when I'm washing my face. This is due to a completely irrational fear of having someone suddenly appear in the bathroom standing right behind me, thus appearing in the mirror - probably an axe-wielding maniac, as can happen, right? This was a tough quirk to overcome when I had roommates. Fortunately, my good friend Karen had the same irrational fear, so we respected each other's weirdness when it was face-washing time. Always good to know someone has your back, and it's not an axe-wielding maniac.

#5 I can converse in song lyrics. Apparently not everyone can do this? So it helps to know someone else who can also converse in song lyrics so that actual conversations can happen (Viv, I'm looking at you). But I can also carry on a lyrical conversation with myself quite nicely if I have to.

#6 I have an almost Joan Crawfordian aversion to wire hangers, and I also must insist that all hangers are facing the same way in my closet. At all times. No exceptions. I know. You try being married to me.

So there you have it. I wish I could say "and those are all the quirks that I have!" But I can't. I suppose there will be another meme one day where I can list numbers 7 through 77 or something.

I'm going to tag Vivian and then anyone else who's quirky can feel free to play along. Just make sure you let me know.

Oh, and Lord Black of the Big House contest closes Friday April 4th so get your votes in!

tribute

2008-03-28T14:00:00.004-04:00

So that post about Squares and Bauhaus really called up the nostalgia in e-L, and got me thinking about the two friends who I briefly mentioned at the end of it. Ric, especially, because we were pretty close back in the day, and because now there is a for real reason for this tribute.

Ric arrived part way through the school year (what is it with me and the boys who crash the school year party?) but I honestly can't remember what grade. It was either 10 or 11, but I don't have anything more concrete than that, he always just seemed to be part of my life back then. He was in my French and English classes and possibly a couple of others, but I remember those two mostly because we did a lot of laughing in both. We hit it off right away, same senses of humour, same interest in films and music, all of that stuff that's important. He quickly established a school newspaper, and my friend A and I quickly became his movie reviewers. We reviewed some of the crappiest movies of the 80s - remember Remo Williams the Adventure Begins? Yeah, we panned that long before Siskel & Ebert did, I'm sure.

In English class once, we were discussing a short story dealing with planned obsolescence, and the teacher asked Ric to explain in his own words what he thought that meant. So the boy goes on and on about growing up, and certain expectations of youth, and how parental influences dictate what you become. We were all staring at him and finally the teacher spoke: "um actually, planned OBSOlescence, not ADOlescence". And he was quick to reply "oh. well, then, I have no idea what I'm talking about!" It was awesome. Another time he and another girl and I were assigned the poem "The Woodpile" to analyse and we elected him the rep to actually get up and talk about our thoughts. So when he stood up to give the presentation he confidently said "So Camille, Elizabeth and I did it on The Woodpile..." and the crowd went wild, people. Again, nothing short of brilliant.

My yearbooks have inscriptions from him such as "I like you because you like David Byrne and plain doughnuts" and "my yearbook photo didn't make it in this year, so here is a self-portrait. No camera can capture the true beauty" and a drawing of a train on a track that stated simply "my train of thought".

We would go see movies together at the local rep theatre, The Broadway, he knew the guy that owned it. He'd pick me up in his Datsun without a floor (okay the floor was only missing on the passenger side of the car, and there was a strategically placed floormat, but if it moved at all you could just see the road whipping by) and we did a bunch of full-participation Rocky Horror Picture Shows there, and movie documentaries like Stop Making Sense were our faves (see David Byrne reference above). At one point I briefly considered that he could be potential boyfriend material, but quickly reconsidered. He was too good a best boy bud, and I didn't want to mess things up. So we continued status quo, hanging out and belly laughing everywhere we went.

After highschool we attended the same hometown university, me in History and him in Economics and Political Science or something jazzy along those lines. Our paths didn't cross very often, and we probably only saw each other a few times on campus. At the end of our time there, we somehow managed to learn that we were graduating on the same day, and both hated the thought of going. On graduation day, he picked me up (by this time, different car, fully floored) and we bitched and moaned the whole way there about how our parents were forcing us to go, it was like 5000 degrees out, it was going to be sooooo boring, and really who goes to their grad? Then we started talking about our parents - mine, working-class types who never graduated highschool, and his, Brazilian immigrants who also had little education. Then we were quiet for a bit and decided to suck it up and be happy we had the opportunity, realizing finally (duh) how proud we were making our parents. So we graduated and posed for a couple of photos together, and talked about plans for the future. Mine were simple: bum around for most of the summer, and then hit up the UK and Ireland for a full-on backpacking extravaganza. He had already been accepted at law school, and would be working his ass off all summer to pay for it. Always the responsible one.

After uni, I'd see him once in awhile, usually around Christmas when he was home. We'd go for a drink, and talk about how when he was a high-flying lawyer he'd hire me and we'd work together a la Perry Mason and Della Street. Good times those, and lots of good memories. We lost touch, but I was always so sure we'd get together again.

So how much of a shock was it this morning when I opened the Announcements section of the paper and saw his obituary. Full on body slamming punch to the gut shocking. I couldn't believe it, refused to believe it. I still don't. In his 41st year... Beloved husband of... Adoring father of... Loving son....brother... will be missed my many family and friends.... No fucking way. I cried long and hard. 41 years is not enough time on this earth.

When I recovered somewhat I could look at the photo. It made me smile that he looked the same, just with less hair. It's a great photo, totally capturing his personality, I think. It made me happy that he'd been happy - wife, two kids.. But then the crashing grief that they must be feeling, how can you even imagine?

Every day I am reminded that life is precious and short and should not be taken for granted. Every. Day. And while I'm reminded, seldom do I really think long and hard on it. Today though? That's all I can think about. I can't wait to go home and hug John and the boys, tell them that I love them. And to all of you too, consider yourselves virtually loved and hugged.

And seriously. Let's get together...before we get much older.

can we talk?

2008-03-19T15:52:00.008-04:00

Seriously, can we?

Can we talk about Heather Mills? And how she is absolutely and completely crazy - nay - batshit? Who pours water on a lawyer's head??? In court??? Maybe they need to go back to wearing wigs? Oy.

Can we talk about how China is seriously not doing much to prove to me (or anyone, really) that they deserve to host the fucking Olympic games?

Or what about Canada recognizing Kosovo, you know, cos all the cool kids are doing it? Can we talk about that?

Can we talk about the amount of handwringing there appears to be about the prequel to Anne of Green Gables, "Before Green Gables"? And now there's a prequel movie coming out too, which no doubt will be a stressor for these same people? (aside: I don't know man, I think it's kind of a cool way to celebrate the 100th anniversary. But then, I was never an Anne-aholic, really. I liked the first book, but never got into the rest. I was more of an Emily of New Moon girl.)

Can we talk about smokers? Like, how they think that throwing their butt on the ground is a good idea? And that this somehow isn't littering? Do you know how many times I've had to dodge a butt at the bus stop this week? Too fucking many, that's how many.

Can we also talk about how, apparently, I am the mayor of Crabbyville, and if the sun doesn't start to shine immediately, I am going to have to open a vein? For real, people. I will cut.

Discuss.

bela lugosi's dead

2008-03-06T23:19:00.003-05:00

Did you know Bauhaus has a new album? And it has songs entitled "Endless Summer of the Damned" and "Black Stone Heart" and "International Bulletproof Talent"? It's true. And it's awesome. And did I ever tell you about my Bauhaus obsession? No? K, settle in, yo.

So. When I was in grade 11 - that very formative grade in the Ontario school system of the 80s - I was bored. Not intellectually bored, but boy-ually bored. That's right people, the boys, they were boring me. It's not that I'd, you know, "worked my way through them" or anything. Oh no, e-L did not roll that way back then. It was basically that there were no boys that were worthy. And ok, by worthy, I do not mean that the boys that existed didn't deserve me, I just mean that the boys were kind of... meh. I can' t explain this, nor can I really defend this, because I'm sure there were plenty of "worthy" boys within grasp but for some reason they just did not make their fine selves known to me, so that's what I was thinking a-way back then. My highschool + no worthy boys = zzzzzzzz..... Okay, so anyway. Part way through the year we had an influx of new students. Which is weird, yeah? But it happened that we'd get kids transferring from the catholic school system (for those of you who are all "wha'?" - yeah, Ontario has a public and a catholic school system - it goes way, way back in our history and...ok, I'm not going there, but suffice it to say it wasn't great) So every year, kids in the advanced grades would transfer to our school so they could actually get decent classes and the requirements for university (sorry, I know I said I wouldn't go there, but...) and we'd get a bunch of new students to check out. One such student was a boy who will always be known to me as "Squares" (not his real name). Squares arrived in my history class one day, all Bauhaus shirt (see? segue??) and nice jeans. I was awestruck. "Who was this boy?" I wondered. He's so new. And so worthy. Clearly, I now had a focus for my day, which was pretty important circa 1984. Now, Squares was smart, and he was funny and for the love of god I just could not stop staring at him. It turned out he was a really nice guy, and we actually got along pretty well. Of course, e-L being e-L, I just assumed it was all friends platonic whatever, but deep down? I wanted me some Squares.

So time went on and Squares and I had some fun. We'd chat before class and we'd kind of forget that class was starting, so our history teacher would make some coughing noises, and we'd be all "wha?" and then, embarrassed, we'd head to our respective desks. He'd shove me as he passed me in the hallway and I'd blush and carry on. Then in the cafeteria I'd throw something at him and he'd duck and laugh and I'd think "oh my god why doesn't he just..." Okay, family blog, let's not go there. Anyway, let's just say there was some...um...tension.

Squares never did graduate with our class, and I'm not entirely sure what happened to him. He disappeared somewhere during grade 12, never to be seen again. We had some mutual friends, but I never dared to ask them what happened to him, since I didn't want to be known as "that girl that asked about Squares". So I never knew.

But before he left, I discovered Bauhaus. All due to his shirt. Is that not a total highschool thing to do?? "I know nothing about this band, but the boy I adore likes them and wears their shirt so I am totally going to check them out and LOVE them because HE does". And the thing is? I totally did love them. And I am going to buy the new album. Thank you, Squares.

A few years after highschool I met my friends Ric and Terry for drinks over Christmas, and we were reminiscing about our old school friends. At this point, as more mature adults, I figured I was safe, so casually asked "so what ever happened to Squares?" They looked at each other and said they hadn't seen him in a few years, but why did I want to know? So I told them "well I totally had a crush on him, hello!" And they were "wow - yeah he liked you, but we never thought you were into him."

Moral of this story? Highschool guys know shit about anything. And Bauhaus is depressing. But I will always love them.

e-L's first evah contest!

2008-03-05T22:34:00.001-05:00

I'm excited! Are you excited? Well maybe if I tell you what's up you will be!

Okay, so it's time to shake up this ol' blog o' mine, and I've decided to run a contest. I have my reasons. If this flies - and I'm counting on you, people - this will be the first of many. Or at least some. Or until I get tired of it.

Anyway, this will be a legit contest, with the winner actually receiving a prize of my choosing. Oh and you know it will be something fabulous! Or at least something I can send through the post without worrying about sniffer dogs.

I know, I know "e-L, get on with it! fill us in for the love of all that is holy!"

Ready?

Okay, so to enter this first evah contest, I need you to submit (in the comments) your top pick for Conrad Black's prison name. That's right people Lord Black of yadda yadda is in the big house, and I want to know what you think he's gonna be known as until he's sprung.

Here's my top 3 to get you started:

1. Barbara's bad boy
2. Con-stant craving
3. Bernice

Lame-o, right? I know y'all can do better, people! I can feel it! So come on, give it some thought! Best nickname (judged by me, cos it's my damn blog) wins a prize! I'm sorry I can't be more specific than that at this time, but there is real shizz on the line and pride is at stake - I guess? Whatev.

Fun, no? All right - have it it, lads! Hollaaaaa-inger! (sorry, I totally stole that from the debators last night - cracked me up)

sometimes wondering what planet they might be from

2008-02-26T19:18:00.003-05:00

Scene: our kitchen, dinner time.

Characters: me (the mother), Charles (son #1) and Max (son #2)

Dialogue:

Charles: so, what's for supper
me: pizza
Charles: seriously? pizza? awesome! wait - homemade or delivery?
me: um - homemade
Charles: AWESOME! WOO!
me: really? you like my homemade pizza better than delivery?
Charles: duh - yeah! homemade pizza is WAY better than factory-produced pizza
me: uh - ok - cool
Max: pizza for supper - awesome! wait - is that - um - spinach on the pizza??
me: um - yes. is that ok?
Max: YES YES YES THAT'S AWESOME!!!! *yelling* Charles, there's spinach on the pizza!!!!
Charles: YES!!!!
me: you little dudes are whacked. but I love ya.

Charles tells me later that everyone knows that factory pizza (he might be confusing it with factory farms, but whatev, we're going with it) has too much fat and grease, and that homemade pizza is made without so much fat and grease....and with love.

Word.

42 things about 1 awesome guy

2008-02-16T12:46:00.001-05:00

You know that song “88 Lines About 44 Women”? Well it was in my head the other day, and you don’t have to thank me for sparing you the audiovisual content – you’re welcome. Anyway, with John’s birthday coming up, and actually being yesterday, I thought maybe I could work that somehow into a little tribute. So I came up with… “42 things about 1 awesome guy” which is seriously much harder – dude in the 88 song only had to come up with 2 lines about each girl. Meh. And you know too, according to the Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, 42 is the answer to the ultimate question about life, the universe and everything. Clearly, that has got to be celebrated, and celebrated in a numerical lista things:

1. He loves to dance. When all the other guys are standing around on the sidelines holding their beers or shuffling from one foot to the next because their dates full-on dragged them to the dance floor, John is shaking it hardcore. In earnest. I am the envy of everyone at the wedding, club, whatever, ‘cause I got me a man who done loves to boogie.
2. His nickname when we were dating (coined by our friend Rebecca) was “suave-dancing man”. (see above)
3. He can sing too, and will rock the karaoke at the drop of a hat. Best covers are REM and Red Hot Chili Peppers, although I will attest that he is neither as wacko as Michael Stipe nor as tattooed as Anthony Kiedis, but nonetheless, the man has some serious talent in the pipes department.
4. He has run 2 marathons, a few half-marathons, the grueling 30k Around the Bay Road Race 3 times; some 10k and 5k races, and he’s not done yet. Actually, he’s just warming up.
5. He is nearly half-way to earning his black belt in karate, and I have absolutely no doubt that he will get there and beyond.
6. Can we talk about intensity? (see above) He throws his whole damn self into everything he’s ever done, making the rest of us look lazy-assed bad. Yeah, thanks, John…
7. He will sometimes say something just before he falls asleep that will cause me to laugh my ass off for a good half hour, and this usually happens on nights when I’m really, really tired, and yet I have to stay awake laughing, while he happily drifts off to sleep.
8. If the word “wrap” ever comes up in conversation, like, “I need to wrap this gift” or “we’re out of plastic wrap” he will immediately launch into this whole rapping vibe and a sort of “boom chhhh, boom boom boom chhh, boom boom chhh….one day I was chillin’ in Kentucky Fried Chicken….” thing while making with the rap hands. He has been doing this for about 10 years now. It’s awesome. And it never. Gets. Old.
9. He consistently calls hors d’oeuvres “horse doovers” and this cracks me up every time.
10. He can explain anything to me – even math – and I will understand it.
11. He still has traces of his Ottawa Valley accent, and he’s a good sport when I tease him about the fact that he says “nyeeeen” instead of “nine”.
12. He can totally deal with any sort of bodily fluid the boys can manage to spew out – blood, vomit, snot, whatever – while I go white and need to leave the room, John is in there up to both elbows cleaning and sanitizing, and when everything is once again spotless, comes to retrieve me from the fetal position.
13. He is very tolerant of my mother. ‘nuff said.
14. He adores my friends, and they all adore him. When we were dating he was the guy all the girls wanted their boyfriends to be like (see dancing and karaoke references above)
15. He refuses to buy me appliances for special occasions – even if I specifically ask for them. Seriously, what’s wrong with wanting a bathroom scale for your birthday?
16. In prenatal classes, he was the star pupil, the dude with his hand up, knowing all the answers, asking great questions, and somehow knowing stuff about the female reproductive system that even the women didn’t know. I should have totally let him deliver the baby.
17. He misses my dad almost as much as I do.
18. When we first met, he had a very low tolerance for spicy food (ask him about our 3rd date at the Gate of India some time) but he has actually managed to work up quite a good tolerance now, and so a decent shrimp patia won’t actually turn him to ash anymore. Which is a good thing.
19. A fussing baby is no match for the man; within minutes of his patented “baby bounce” which consists of two hip bounces to the left, two to the right, and then a sort of back and forward motion, all babies instantly fall asleep. And some cats too, if they’re the lucky recipients of the baby bounce.
20. He has already rocked one brief “sex talk” with Charles and he handled it like a pro.
21. He has worked at the same company for nearly 20 years, but in various roles, with the most recent a promotion to management. They are totally grooming him for “king of everything” at that company, I can feel it.
22. He loves football, and mocks figure skating. Which is perfect.
23. He smiles with his whole face.
24. He had a bad banana experience as a child, yet still managed to mash up dozens of bananas for the boys when they were first on solid foods, without ever complaining or losing his own breakfast. Now that is love.
25. Dandelions are his nemesis, and he can be found, during the summer months, with a steel tool in hand, eradicating dandelions from our grass one at a time. They always come back, but he will never give up the fight, he will not rest.
26. He just recently got his very first cell phone, followed shortly by a Blackberry for work. And he’s actually starting to admit, they’re pretty cool.
27. If he finds something repulsive (see above for bananas and figure skating) he will express his disgust just like Sideshow Bob. And I’m sorry, I don’t have a written interpretation – you just have to imagine it. So funny.
28. Songs that have the word “fire” in them, he likes to sing like Elmer Fudd would – “oooh oooh oooh, I’m on fi-wuh”.
29. he has a Monty Python quote for pretty much every occasion or scenario
30. He’s always had a very good work/life balance – heavy emphasis on the “life”, cos it’s so important to have one
31. Sometimes when he comes home from work he will open the front door singing “How dooooooooooo” and then will launch into the Rabbit of Seville, and the boys and I will have to join in and we’ll sing the entire thing. And then I can ask him how his day was.
32. He’s good at admitting when he’s wrong – but prefers to admit when I’m wrong. I’m just sayin’
33. He’ll sometimes say something so definitive that it just has to be for real – like if I mention it’s snowing and he says “No. I refuse to accept any more snow. And that’s all I have to say on this matter” and it makes you think wow, snow, you’d better stop because nothing good will come of this, apparently we are refusing to accept more snow. Apparently this is possible.
34. He is an awesome cook and can work it in the kitchen like nobody’s bizzness
35. He is also an awesome dishwasher. I can probably count on a couple of hands the number of times I’ve had to actually do the dishes since we’ve been married.
36. Related to dish doing is dish stacking and John is the dish stacking man. If there is going to be a delay in the dish doing, the dish stacking must be done, so to leave some space on the counter. There are rules for dish stacking and an order in which dishes are stacked, where cutlery is placed, sharp knives in one area only, and probably a whole lot of other stuff I don’t even know, because I am totally out of my league in this so I just stay the hell away.
37. He’s anal. But in a good way.
38. The first time he ever met my extended family was at the cottage at “parade day” which is really just this hokey parade in some little barely-a-town locale, but the subsequent party back at said cottage is a right piss up and about 60 relatives descended on the poor guy, and yet he handled it like a champ. A champ that needed a bunch of beers to cope, but a champ just the same.
39. Whenever we try new wines he likes to say things like “hmmmm…absurd, yet flaccid” when discussing the bouquet or flavour. And every time he says it I laugh my ass off yet again.
40. I know our boys will learn and develop an extremely healthy attitude toward women – not because I will beat them into submission about it (okay maybe I will) – but because their dad has so much respect for women, and sexism and media exploitation and alla that bugs him as much as it does me, and so just through his example and the way he is, he will let them know what’s right. And they will get it because he can explain anything. (see #10 above) And failing that, we will bring the beatings.
41. Wow, all the way through to #41, I’m running out of numbers, and I haven’t even gotten to anything remotely dirty. Damn.
42. He loves me. He loves our family. We are so, so lucky.

Happy birthday, dude. You rock my world.

perhaps I should be committed

2008-02-02T08:47:00.001-05:00

So the other morning I woke up singing "Cigarettes and Whisky". Cos, yeah, that's just a normal-type song to wake up to, right? Shut up.

Anyway, feeling the need to share with y'all, I thought I'd treat you to my absolute favourite version of this song by the incomparable Peter Sellers. And some muppets.

just another sunday afternoon

2008-01-29T15:31:00.000-05:00

It’s a funny thing, but when you walk into the ER of your local hospital with a 10-year old who just happens to be pumping blood from the top of his head, you get Seen. Right. Away. No waiting, just “health card please, someone is coming right out to check him.” And within seconds, someone seriously was right there. The nurse quickly had a look at the gash, put some gauze on it, added an ice pack and some more gauze and said “ok, hold this and the triage nurse will call your name soon.” I had just enough time to go outside and call John to let him know what was going on. When I came back in the triage nurse popped her head out and said, “I need to see Charles.” So we went in, she assessed him, took his vitals and asked us to wait in the waiting room, it wouldn’t be long. And it wasn’t. After about 25 minutes (practically instantaneous in ER waiting rooms, no?) They called us in, and put us in a room. 5 minutes later another nurse was cleaning his head, and things just went like clockwork from there. X-ray, more head cleaning, more assessing of vital signs and finally freezing and stitches and staples, and we were sent on our way with instructions, extra gauze and a funky staple remover to be used by our doctor later in the week.

So, the grand total? Approximately 5 and a half hours spent at the hospital, but almost every second with something going on. My conclusion? That this is, for real, what emergency departments are for. When it’s a true, full-on emergency – heart attack, stab wound, head trauma, respiratory failure? You are number one priority. When you arrive with a cough that you’ve had for 6 days, a kind of sort of pain in your foot, but you can still walk no problem? You kind of sort of have to…yeah, wait.

Ontario hospitals are frequently given a bad rap for wait times. Working in the system as I do now, I know that reducing wait times for anything and everything is number one priority across the province. Using the ER as a walk-in clinic does nothing to help with wait times, we all know that. At the same time, I also know that there are likely many people with no other option but to go to the ER with their ailments. So, with injuries or conditions that aren’t life-threatening, wait times seem to be very l o n g indeed. And I feel for people. I’ve been there with the 8-month old who is running a ridiculous fever that will not go down no matter how much Tempra or Tylenol or Glenfiddich you give him. And I’ve been there with the scary asthma attack that somehow manages to calm down as soon as you arrive at the ER leaving you going “unh, 2 seconds ago he was blue and gasping for air, I swear.” And at those times I waited my turn, so I know. And it can seem like you wait for days. But I also know that triage works to sort people dependent on how sick or injured they are. And they are good at their job, they know their shit. So, you might have seen me yesterday with my son, and yeah, we “got in” before you, and you probably thought I was too preoccupied to see the rolled eyes or the daggers you shot at us, because you were there first. I saw it all, people, and really? I’m sorry you have to wait longer…but come on. The boy totally needed to be fixed – and fast.

I’m also keenly aware, as I get to nearly the end of this post, that part of my focus on giving props to the hospital and everyone that helped us out and to the healthcare system for actually working well, like it’s supposed to, is that I just do not want to think about what exactly went down yesterday afternoon, and how scared I actually was. La la la, he’s fine, it all worked out, he’s going to be great, la la la. When x-rays are taken of your kid’s neck, even though you know it’s precautionary, that’s huge. When the doctor, while looking into the gash says to the med student with him “see there? Yeah, that’s his skull – we really need to be sure it’s not cracked.” That’s fucking enormous. So focusing on the details, sending kudos to the nice child life specialist who brought us juice and a stress ball for Charles to squeeze? So much easier than coming to terms with the fact that my baby spent several hours lying on a stretcher bleeding from the head after being thrown from a sled and landing on some rocks head first. Yeah, let’s talk about the little things to make the big things go away.

But it did work out, and he’s home and fixed up and feeling pretty good. It was bad, but it could have been so much worse. And I am so, so grateful that the worst case scenarios – that I am famous for creating, I’ll have you know – playing over and over in my mind, are just there. In my mind. He’s going to be fine. But his tobogganing career? So over.

what i wish i'd said

2008-01-11T13:07:00.000-05:00

when he came in and i called him by name
he was surprised “you remembered my name,” he said
i said “of course.”

what i wish i’d said
“there are some people and some situations you just don’t forget. ever.”

when he told me that his wife had died
i said, “i read her obituary in the paper. i’m so sorry.”
he said “yeah. me too.”

what i wish i’d said
“it fucking sucks. she was too young. too loved, too important to you. it’s so unfair. your tribute to her was amazing, your strength incredible.”

when he handed me the book he’d borrowed, the book that was meant to help him explain to his kids that their mother was dying
i said, “thanks for bringing it back.”

what i wish i’d said
“how are they doing? how are you coping? is there any way i can help, anything else i can do?”

when he turned to leave he said, “thanks for all your help”
i said, “you’re very welcome. take care of yourself.”

what i wish i’d said
“be strong. be strong for your kids, keep them safe. right now the grief is swallowing you whole. but you’ll climb out of it, i know you will. and you’ll go on. you will.”

i thought all those things. i didn’t say them.
i wish I had.

but i get the feeling he heard them.

the highlight reel

2008-01-02T20:44:00.000-05:00

I've never been much of a new year's resolution person, I find the whole thing ambiguous. It's hard not to buy in though, when there is so much advertising and what have you directed towards "a new you in 2008!" I think if I was going to claim that I'm new, I'd do it in, say August, when no one else is doing anything of note regarding renewing themselves. Otherwise you kind of get lost in the shuffle. So people would go "wow, e-L is a new her - in August - cool!" or whatever.

One thing that I've always been a sucker for though, are the "year in review" articles and lists of "best of" the year, and other crap like that. Sure, there's some serious ambiguity there too - it's one person's opinion of what went down that was notable throughout the year, after all. And there are always differing opinions of what rocked out and what sucked, but part of what I like about these year end lists is that I can read them and get all superior like "pah! as IF that was the best movie this year - ha!" Not that I actually saw a movie this year. That was just an example. But still, I can denounce the list, should I choose to.

So tonight, I thought I'd do my own take on what rocked in 07 - e-L style. I'm not going to go into what sucked, because why bother? It's all about the rocking. You can go ahead and denounce if you want - but it's my list:

The Job:
The job is officially one year old today, and kids, I have never been happier in a workplace than I am now. And I'm sorry for those of you who aren't happy at work - I've been there and it's awful - but I'm here to tell you the ideal job can be found. I'm living the dream. Okay, maybe not "the" dream, but as of right now, and for every goddamn day last year, I was excited to get out of bed, and head off to work. The work is interesting, I'm treated with respect, people genuinely think I'm smart (which I totally am, of course) and every day I feel like I'm making a difference in someone's life, and there is seriously nothing like it.

The Birthday:
Shortly after the job started, I turned 40. When the big day actually happened, when I changed decades after loving my 30s, I would probably not have said that it would be a "look back on 07 highlight". In fact I think I actually had a little fit. But, after almost completing that 40th year, I have to say I'm starting to get the hang of it. It also helps that people tell me"oh my god, you SO do not look 40!" So that part rocks. The other part of it is that I'm 40 and I'm still here. I saw way too many people this year who didn't make it to 40, and that is just so, so unfair. So I'm 40 and healthy, and so very lucky.

The Health:
This actually carries over from the birthday, but I want to point out that I didn't miss a single day of work in 07 due to illness. For reals. This is, absolutely a first for me. Not that I'm a absentee poster girl or anything, but I've always had something at some point throughout the year - especially when the boys were little and they attended that pitri dish/pit of plague known as daycare. Somehow this year though, I managed to work every day I was scheduled to work so this is a true, true highlight for me.

The Vacation:
Again, a slight carry over from above. So with the great new job comes great new vacation. I've never had paid vacation before, so this glorious addition to my world was nothing short of a miracle. And when I booked my week off in August so that we could go and live it up at the cottage, swim, relax, read 4 dozen books, have fires in the evenings, go for long walks, it was almost too good to be true. And it was. Because alllll the sickness I didn't have during work time? Yeah, that showed up for vacation. So I rocked the sore throat/fever/cough/aches and general crappiness for 9. whole. days. Somehow I managed to do everything on the "what I did on my summer vacation" list, but I did them all in an Advil and throat lozenge fog. Finally on about day 7 I went to the doctor and got a prescription for - you guessed it - more Advil and throat lozenges. Eventually it turned out I had pneumonia, but whatever. I didn't have to use up sick days. So that totally counts.

The Boys:
Our kids started grades 5 and 2 in September, and it's hard to believe how fast they are growing up. And also how awesome they are. You get used to the "milestones" when you're a new or fairly new parent - first smiles, first words, first steps - then later it's toilet training, riding a tricycle, taking music lessons, learning to read. The funny thing is the milestones just don't stop. Now they're a little more subtle, you have to hear about them or ask about stuff that's going on because you're not with them 24/7 anymore. So we hear about how Max got an award at school for being considerate. Or how Charles is teaching himself to play the bass. I'm astounded with their knowledge - they just know stuff. And when I ask them "how do you know that?" They tell me "oh, I just read about it from a book I got from the library" or "we're studying it in school, it's SO cool". So while they know all the basics - walking, talking, reading - they continue to blow me away with everything else. We can have whole conversations about penguin habitats, or they can read me an article from Owl magazine and we can discuss eco-friendly houses or what happened to the electric car. I love it. I've loved all their stages (except maybe for toilet training) but I have to say I am so enjoying who they are right now so much. The only pangs I get are the teeny ones that tell me it's only a matter of a few years and maybe they won't have a lot of time for me. Those feelings I can push down though, because for now, it's all so good.

Happy 2008, blogfriends. It's gonna rock.

it's absolutely fabulous

2007-12-21T15:54:00.000-05:00

So I know, you're probably thinking "if last month was NaBloPoMo, is this month NOblopomo??" Totally seemed that way, didn't it?

Actually it was just me gettin' jiggy with the season and all the stuff that goes with it. I'd planned to take some time off after November, just to rest my weary blogging fingers, but three weeks? Perhaps a little excessive.

Anyway, regularly-scheduled blogging will likely resume over the weekend - the drivel in my brain must go SOMEwhere after all. For now though, I leave you with my Christmas wishlist:

1. Peace on earth
2. Goodwill toward all people
3. This totally kick-ass Veuve Cliquot cooler, sweetie, darling. *air kiss*

it's a quarter to three...

2007-11-30T21:43:00.000-05:00

Well not really, but it's getting late, and it's time to NaBloPoMo.

So this isn't really a guest post, but it's coming to you from a guest location, live from Vivian's so give it up!

And I'm remembering that my last year's NaBloPoMo post was lame, and I vowed that if I did this again this year, I'd have just an awesome post.

So what do y'all think? Awesome, right?

Yeah, you know it.

Happy end of NaBloPoMo everyone. I need more wine.

feed the world

2007-11-29T21:48:00.000-05:00

So Charles and I did a little duet today, and this is how it went:

It's Christmastime
There's no need to be afraid
At Christmastime
We let in light and we banish shade
And in our world of plenty
We can spread a smile of joy
Throw your arms around the world at Christmastime

etc.

The child is learning this tune for his class Christmas concert, which is awesome. But then he says "so is this like a classic Christmas song?" And I said "um - well - sort of - it's from 1984" And he was all "whoa - so it's old"

Thanks, dude.

In my defense, I did explain to him the whole history of the concept, told him who was involved, who wrote the song, the lyrics and music, why it was such a big deal, and how it launched a bunch of other (albeit less worthy) songs for African relief, told him that I'd find the video for him, but pay no attention to Bono's (and everyone else's) gigantic hair. It kind of scared me, actually, how much I knew about that song. But then, it's launched the holiday season for me for the past 23 years. For me, it's the musical equivalent of A Charlie Brown Christmas. Once I see that show, I'm officially in the holiday spirit. And same goes for the Band Aid tune.

So Charlie Brown was Tuesday night, and Do They Know It's Christmas was today. Consider me officially holidayfied.

you want to know what about my bread?

2007-11-28T21:55:00.001-05:00

I was in the grocery store last week with Charles and we were buying a few things. Cheese, tortilla chips, olives, salsa, sour cream....clearly we were gonna make us some nachos. So we get up to the 8 items or less check-out (because we only had 6, I swear) and the clerk says to us: "Wellllll someone's making nachos for supper, huh? Isn't that a nice treat!" So Charles says "yeah, it's great!" but I'm thinking "Excuse me? What did you just say to me??"

Okay, let me explain, lest you think I just go around looking for trouble.

When I was doing my library diploma (or libdip for short) one of the courses involved circulation - not as in the system in your body, of course - but as in library materials. Circulation, in the library world is sacred. Patron privacy is the ultimate priority, and under no circumstances are you to comment on what people are signing out. This is the dog's honest truth, people - this is what was drilled into fledgling library heads lo these many years ago. On no account can you call someone out about what they're signing out from your library. Ever. This golden rule pretty much applies at all libraries, but the librarian teaching my particular course was a public librarian, so she was using public libraries as the model. Basically, if you take anything up to the circ desk and show your card, the items are signed out no questions asked.

One of the examples that was used in my class - and probably many, many library school classes worldwide, was the instance of (and I'm probably going to get some of the details wrong, but the gist of it you will understand) the teenager who signed out the book Final Exit. The staff member who checked the book out knew the kid and the kid's family. Later, the kid committed suicide. The very distraught parents were outraged that the staff member didn't tell the parents what their kid had signed out, holding this person responsible, that if they'd said something, maybe it could have been prevented... A very sad story indeed. However, the staff member was under no obligation to say anything, of course. And so it goes.

Anyway, this has always stuck with me througout my library career, and I think it's important. You don't make comments to someone checking out diet books like "Hey, great! You've finally decided to do something about that spare tire!" just like you wouldn't say "Wow, that's a lot of electronics and pyrotechnics books you've got there - gonna make a bomb?"

So I'm always shocked and taken aback when grocery or other clerks make comments on my purchases. The nachos thing was only one in a long series of instances where I just didn't know how to respond. Some times it's more disturbing than others. Like the time the grocery clerk commented "Jeez, you sure do have a lot of vegetables! Are you like a vegetarian or something?" or when two women handled the bread I was buying saying "Yeah, I've always wanted to try this but it's sooooo expensive - so, is it worth it??" I wanted to run. On the other hand, when I bought my winter coat last weekend and the girl said "Man, I love that coat on you, it's awesome! And you know, they're super warm too" I was pleased. Maybe because I'd asked for some help, talked a little about what I was looking for - stuff like that. So her comments were justified and welcomed. But, when I walk up to the check-out lane at the grocer and plunk my items on the belt, I've done it all myself and I guess I just don't need justification for what I'm purchasing. Nor do I need comments.

So I guess what I'm wondering is does this bother anyone else? Are you annoyed or flattered when check-out people comment on your purchases? Does it feel like an invasion of your privacy, or are you willing to share your preferences for expensive breads? Am I alone in the deer in the headlights feeling when this happens because of my "the customer's items are sacred and are known to them and them alone" mantra, or do others share this view? Am I the only crazy in the room?

Know what? Don't answer that last one, k? Thanks.

party time

2007-11-27T21:12:00.000-05:00

So have you ever wondered what happened to old photos? Most of us hold on to a metric tonne of snapshots. Have you ever thrown any away? I know I have - usually hurtin' pictures of me. But I'm careful to rip them up, naturally. And in my whole life I've probably only thrown away about a dozen. That's how photogenic my gorgeous self is, y'all.

Anyway, have a look at Square America to see what can happen to old photos if you're not careful. I think The Party is about the craziest shit I've seen in awhile. Someone was documenting this debauchery! People posing half naked and in their skivvies! Men in curlers?!

I always knew I was born in the wrong era.

e-L sometimes forgets

2007-11-26T21:16:00.001-05:00

e-L often does not understand why the people at the bus stop aren't rocking out. But then, she remembers that the other people at the bus stop actually can't hear the music on her iPod.

So that explains that.

However, it sometimes seems as though people can hear the music in her ears because they walk to the beat. Have you ever noticed this? It's very cool when you've got some tune cranked up high and some dude is just strutting down the street, almost like he's singing along. Love that.

Ha. Take that NaBloPoMo.

sunday bloody sunday

2007-11-25T11:38:00.000-05:00

Okay not really.

It's Grey Cup Sunday actually so give it up for the CFL! East vs. West in the 95th Grey Cup. Played in Toronto this year, but sadly I didn't get to any of the Grey Cup week festivities. It's always a good party, the lead up to the big game is. This year the shadow of the NFL hangs over the league. Toronto really wants an NFL team, and Buffalo might be looking for a new home. What that could mean for the CFL remains to be seen. I don't know that it would spell complete disaster, but quite frankly, I don't think Toronto could support two professional football teams.

At any rate, beer and chips will be consumed, the TV will be yelled at, referees will be called names and some excellent football will be coming to us live in about 6 hours time. Awesome.

Go Bombers!

lunch date

2007-11-24T15:45:00.000-05:00

We went out today and had a really nice lunch. Lovely conversation, lots of laughs and discussion. We ate sushi, edamame, miso soup, salad and drank green tea. We both managed to use the chopsticks without too much difficulty, which was great. We lingered over green tea and chatted some more. Oh and did I mention? My companion for lunch was Charles.

So when exactly did it happen that I could take my son out for such a sophisticated meal? It was actually his choice, and it was awesome. It's hard to believe a month today he will turn 10. And harder to believe how quickly those years have flown, which scares me, because the next 10 are likely to go even faster.

So here's to many more lunches. Maybe one day the boy will even pick up the tab.

tomorrow!

2007-11-23T21:56:00.000-05:00

So tomorrow I'm getting my major-ass friend fix. Oh hells yeah. I got friends coming in from hours away just to party wit us. And it's gonna kick in so many ways.

All right, I'm tired, so I'll just tell you straight up what's going down. Tomorrow there are a bunch of our friends coming over. I'm making more killah chili, we're consuming some beverages and then some McGinty will be taken in. I've never actually seen this band in living action, but I have heard that they do indeed rawk the howse. So I'm stoked. And also, there will be 9 or 10 of my bestest friends in attendance and there will be much laughter, reminiscing, telling of crazy-ass Navy, university and StevieB stories. We will drink beer and laugh some more. We'll dance and sing Farewell to Nova Scotia (I hope!) and laugh even more. And it will be awesome. Then we'll all crash at our house and hit Ray's for breakfast Sunday morning, where more stories will be told, more laughter will happen, more catching up will occur.

So, does it sound like I've already experienced this? I have. With these friends, nights like this are predictable. Yet they are predictably awesome. I am so excited to have these people around me you have no idea. Or maybe you do. And if you do? Then you're just as lucky as I am.

smiles for thanksgiving

2007-11-22T20:20:00.001-05:00

So I don't celebrate Thanksgiving today, but I'm still giving thanks. I've always been a fan of the US version of Thanksgiving, so I hope all of you celebrating are enjoying your Tofurkey. Wait...what? Ok, never mind.

So I'm here to share some more bits of awesomeness:

#1 There's a really cute, 3-storey apartment building that I pass on my way to work, called the Elgin Apartments. (as an aside, do all apartment buildings have names? My town seems to have a disproportionate number of buildings that are named. I love it, but I'm curious as to whether this is a thing for my city or if it's everywhere. So let me know) Anyway, it's an old building and there's some lovely ivy growing on it. So much ivy that it has, in fact, covered over the EL in Elgin. So now, it is the Gin Apartments. Awesome. I think I'd like to live there.

#2 Charles and Max in their jammies, right out of the shower. Nothing could be more adorable. Or smell better.

#3 Hearing the distinctive "pop" of a cork as John opens a bottle of red wine and pours me a glass.

Thursday night bliss.

talking trash

2007-11-21T22:00:00.000-05:00

My city is tossing around the idea of introducing a one bag of garbage per household bylaw. So, every week on garbage pick-up day, put out one bag. One. Un. I'm a fan of this, naturally. I'm all for recycling, composting, green carting, what have you. So I think it's fantastic that this could happen as early as March 2008.

Lots of people, though, aren't nearly as happy as I. They claim they can't possibly reduce down to one bag per week. I've read letters in the paper where large families - with small children in diapers - try hard to divert their waste, but insist they would not be able to stick to the one bag limit. While I do feel for them, I still maintain that it's a possibility that should be given some thought. We're a family of 4. Each week we put out (maybe) one and a half small grocery sized bags of trash. Some weeks we don't put out any. We don't use a bin or a green/black garbage bag, we have no need for that. So, I'm thinking, even a family of say 6 would probably go about a half a large bag or garbage bin. Family of 8? 10? You get the picture. It's doable.

Some opponents of the bylaw, while in favour of the reduction of trash worry that people will put their one bag on the curb - and 3 or 4 others in a ditch someplace. I was all "wha'?? People would do that??" Apparently they would. Or, they'd divvy up their trash amongst their neighbours. This I believe, we've had this happen to us before - all of a sudden there are 6 bags of garbage on my lawn? Huh? Pisses me off. So there would need to be some policing for sure, I'm really not sure city council has thought this through, but I'm happy there's some buzz about it and some debate happening.

The amount of waste we produce can be reduced. I know a lot of people blame manufacturers for packaging that is wasteful, and I totally get that. But so much of what is sent to landfill has to do with our society's addiction to consumption and overconsumption. Especially at this time of year when we're inundated with ads to buy buy buy! It's all a little sickmaking, and when you multiply our own urge to spend and buy by millions of others? It's almost obscene.

This is why I'm encouraging y'all to participate - or not participate? - in Buy Nothing Day. On Friday, November 23rd - the day after US Thanksgiving, and the absolute busiest shopping day of the year in North America - buy nothing. Think you can do it? I'm going to try. If you absolutely have to buy, at least be aware of Buy Nothing Day and be mindful of your purchases. So much of our shopping and buying time is spent zombie-like in malls and shopping centres, so think carefully, know where you're spending your money.

Anyone who decides to take part, please feel free to leave comments as to how you made out!

And yes, I realize I'm talking to maybe two people, but I do like to be optimistic.

2007-11-20T20:43:00.000-05:00

Since we're nearing the start of the holiday festive season (yes, I said nearing - I refuse to acknowledge that holiday stuff has been out since before Halloween) thoughts naturally turn to that most festive of all drinks - the martini.

And, at this same time of year, thoughts may also turn to - gadgetry. So, wouldn't it be cool if you could combine the two?

No, I didn't think so either. Still, that didn't stop the good people at Waring Pro.

Behold:

You can find out more about it at Popgadget, should you choose to know more. I think I'll stick with my penguin.

digging deep

2007-11-19T22:11:00.000-05:00

Tonight was karate class and it was HARD. I mean it's always hard, but this was one of those classes where you have no time to catch your breath in between anything ever. And yeah, that sentence totally made sense, didn't it? See, this is what I'm talking about.

This weekend - the one that just passed - is a blur. I seemed to have been on the go all day Saturday and Sunday with no time to catch my breath in between anything ever. (hmmm....maybe that sentence can work....)

Most of my weekend was taken up with fun activities - Santa Claus parade! A visit with friends! Shopping in Toronto! Some of the activities were just the usual stuff - laundry. Dishes. Stuff like that. But no matter, I just didn't seem to be able to slow down. Then today it's back at work and go go go there, and then karate class and I am wiped.

Yet here I am. And something our instructor said at the end of the class tonight really resonated with me (yes, I said resonated - I'm smart like that, even when exhausted) and I wanted to share it. He said he purposely made the class tough because he wants us to really work on our mental fitness. So much about martial arts is mental - the ability to push yourself when you're ready to give up; the mindset to tell yourself you can really make it through; the courage to continue to give it your all when you're physically (and mentally) exhausted.

He also likened mental fitness to life in general, which I totally loved. Things you need to get through in life, no matter how stressful or worrisome or awful can actually be overcome if you're in the right mindset. The instructors tell us to "dig deep" - meaning, dig deep within yourself to overcome the pain, the strain, the exhaustion. It's in you to succeed, you just need to believe you can do it.

We recently watched the movie Meet the Robinsons with the kids. I won't go into the whole plot line or anything, but one of the themes throughout was "keep moving forward". Just keep trying. And in one fantastic scene where the main kid invented something of which he was super proud, that ended up malfunctioning, the whole family started cheering, saying "Hooray, you failed!" For them, failure was an opportunity to learn - to keep learning. I thought it was awesome.

So tonight I dug deep. All weekend I dug deep. I know I've got it within myself to fail, but keep trying. Keep moving forward. And you do too.

e-L is feeling pensive

2007-11-18T22:09:00.000-05:00

It's Sunday night, and I always do a bit of mourning on Sunday nights. It's not that I didn't have a good weekend (I did); it's not that I hate the thought of returning to my job tomorrow morning (I don't); it's not that there won't ever be another weekend or anything. I don't know what it is - it's been with me since forever.

So I thought maybe I need to motivate myself, to embrace Sunday night and look to the promise of the new week! Yes! Welcome, Monday we've been waiting for you! How exciting to start a new week, another Monday to Friday work week! Yeah I know. Not working. I did however find myself a cool motivational sign generator, and made myself a sign. Now remember, it's late on Sunday evening so it's not the usual pure genius you're used to from e-L. But maybe it will motivate you to make a sign and embrace the work week too!

Or maybe we really are just working for the weekend...

e-L is blogging

2007-11-17T21:12:00.000-05:00

And blogging for your reading enjoyment, because it's all about you, people. It really is. I understand how you would be bummed should I not show up. I mean yeah, there's NaBloPoMo and all, but honestly, I'm only thinking of y'all.

I only wish that I had something for you. Yeah. So sorry. How many days left? *sigh*

fulfilling my duty

2007-11-16T16:07:00.000-05:00

Yes kids, I'm briefly blogging from work. It had to be done, because I'm out of here in 20 minutes and meeting a friend for sushi. Then, I'm off to another get-together because I apparently have a social life, of which I've just become aware. Really. I normally don't have much going on for a Friday night, so to have two engagements? Wow.

I kind of feel like a Cheaty McCheatster, because I accepted both invitations. Do you ever feel like that? I mean it's not like I'm going to be Fred Flintstone where he is supposed to be bowling the big championship game BUT it's his anniversary so he attempts to do both by running back and forth between the bowling alley and the drive-in movie (the drive-in because that's where he and Wilma went on their first date) and he keeps running out for popcorn or drinks and then bowling, and he's totally getting away with it until he slams his thumb in the car door then bowls and gets the ball stuck on his thumb, so he finally has to confess that yes, he was bowling on their anniversary, but it all works out in the end, cos Wilma's like that. Remember that? Well rest assured, I don't roll that way.

I guess I should look at it like the best of both worlds - a nice dinner with one friend, and then some hanging and gabbing with some others. Yes, I think that's how I'll look at it. Huzzah for friends! And a whole hella bunch in one evening. Makes me feel kind of warm and fuzzy inside, really. Yabba Dabba Doo!

from me to you...

2007-11-15T20:13:00.000-05:00

...enjoy.

I'm having a hard time focusing tonight - I'm almost thinking I'm NaBloPoMoed out, people. 15 days and hoo boy, it's getting hard.

Hopefully I'll come up with something profound tomorrow. And if not profound, then profane.

almost at the half-way point!

2007-11-14T21:51:00.001-05:00

And yeah. I got nothing.

So here's what I did this evening:

made a shepherd's pie for tomorrow's dinner - just need to pop it in the oven! (wow, who am I? when have I ever said "pop it in the oven"? I think I'm channelling a 1970s era Easy Bake Oven commercial or something)
made a big pot of killah chili - for another meal this week or weekend
stood in awe of myself for that much food preparation

Every once in awhile I get these sort of attacks of domesticity - last week I even made banana muffins. For reals, dudes. My kids don't know who I am when this happens. It kind of scares them, yet they do enjoy a good muffin, so they say very little, lest this kind baking stranger goes away forever.

Oh and last bullet:

went and kicked some serious ass at karate

Ah, that's more like it.

smile inducers for 13/11/07

2007-11-13T21:07:00.001-05:00

#1 A huge - seriously huge - flock of geese flying southward on my way home tonight. Big honking V - ha, honking, get it? I crack myself up.

#2 Crazy-ass little kid logic in the UPS pick-up depot:
little kid: daddy, what's Diego plus Lazytown?
dad: um....I don't know...what?
little kid: *rolling eyes" daddy, I already told you it's Transformers. Diego + Lazytown = Transformers!
See? Stuff like that makes me go "shit, wow, it's not just my weirdo kids with crazy-ass logic - whew"

#3 Listening to my boys read in French. They have that certain....I don't know what....and their accents? Incroyable.

Things learned or reemphasized at Great Wolf Lodge this weekend

2007-11-12T20:26:00.000-05:00

#1 Bathing suits are the ultimate equalizer. It's true. When you're surrounded by hundreds of other people, all wearing some sort of swimsuit, you eventually become completely unaware that everything around you is wearing nearly- well, nothing. It takes some getting used to (there are a lot of hairy backs in the Niagara area - I'm not judging, just noticing) but after awhile? We're all the same. But um, for the record? e-L does not have a hairy back.

#2 Apparently, in spite of what I've claimed my (almost) entire life, I am actually a waterslide person. I love the water, I spent my entire childhood summers in a lake, I have no problem going off a diving board, I can swim lengths and do handstands and somersaults. But until this weekend, waterslides were not something I could do. After much cajoling by my husband and children though, I braved one of the biggest ones, and now, nothing can stop me. Maybe next summer I'll have to work on roller coasters. *shudder*

#3 Any place is the happiest place on earth (registered trade mark of Disney, yeah yeah, I know) when I'm with my boys. The hotel/waterpark thing is great, of course. But really, it's just about us all being together as a family. I'm a very lucky woman.

So all in all? 8 thumbs us from us. We had a lot of fun.

in case you need me...

2007-11-11T11:12:00.000-05:00

...here's where I'll be until tomorrow. Oh yes I will.

Happy Sunday, see y'all tomorrow!

for your listening pleasure

2007-11-10T16:29:00.000-05:00

One of the things I enjoy about the CBC is that the annual Massey Lectures are always available online. I know I've blogged about Massey before (and wow, was that really two years ago? I bet I have a blogversary coming up some time soon) because they're always so impressive. Well now, select "Lost Massey Lectures" are now available as podcasts here so you can listen to Martin Luther King Jr's 1967 lecture, or Jane Jacobs' lecture from 1979. How awesome is that?

There is also a book of these lectures from Anansi Press (one of my absolute favourite publishing houses. And really, do normal people have favourite publishing houses? or is that strictly a thang with those of us in the library profession? Hmmm...)

So from me to you, 5 podcasts from great thinkers and a fantastic new book. (and I promise to try harder to eliminate the stream of consciousness parentheses for my next post. Really.)

i will remember you

2007-11-09T21:33:00.000-05:00

I'm happy it's Friday, yo. And for me, a nice long weekend in honour of Remembrance Day on the 11th. Yeah, you heard me, those of us in health care get that day off. So give it up.

Usually on Remembrance Day I turn on the tv (if I'm home) and watch the service from Ottawa. I think the part that always gets me is the honouring of the Silver Cross Mother. That always makes me cry. It always has, and of course, now that I am a mother, it's a bazillion times worse. It used to be that the woman was extremely elderly - someone who'd lost a child in WWII or maybe Korea. But sadly, lately, it's been much younger mothers - mothers representing those lost in Afghanistan. And I hate that.

If you checked out my Halloween pics, you'll see my eldest son all done up as a sailor. Nice costume, right? Well, actually, that was my uniform - back in the day. In 1985 I joined the Naval Reserves, and that year also just happened to be the 75th anniversary of the Canadian Navy. So there were a lot of celebrations during this anniversary year, and one of the stunts the powers that be came up with, was to bring back the old-skool uniform for the band.

So we all got fitted - and they weren't "new" uniforms, done up like the old style, no no. They were the actual old uniforms. For reals. And they were itchy. And only designed for men. And there were a lot of parts - cap, dickie (shirt), tunic, collar, trousers, putties, lanyard... It was complicated! And this from a girl who is all about the accessories. But anyway...

The first time we put this monkey suit on, we were all "awww come on, hell noooo!" - monkey suit indeed - we all looked like organ grinder monkeys (do people even know about organ grinder monkeys these days? I don't know) - but off we went for the Remembrance Day parade. And it was cold. Fucking cold. And freezing rain. Now, when you wear the regular "new" uniform and it's snowing/raining/sleeting/cold you get to wear your overcoat. Nice and toasty. But, with the old uniform? There was no issued coat. No issued gloves. So you froze. And did I mention we were the band? So not only were we blue with cold, we also had to march and play our horns. Which were freezing up by the second. It was hell on earth.

Except that it wasn't. And I distinctly remember the moment I realized that it wasn't. We were standing at the cenotaph during the two minutes silence, waiting for the fly past, and I was trying to thaw the keys of my clarinet with my breath, and failing, and I was looking around the crowd gathered downtown. And I started checking out all the veterans, just standing there, heads bowed and blowing on their hands to keep them warm. And I remember thinking about what they did. And thinking, my god, some of them were probably exposed to weather like this for days on end in the North Atlantic. Long lonely stretches of freezing rain and wind and being torpedoed and trying to stay alive. And all of a sudden I remember thinking, I can do this fucking parade. It didn't make me any warmer, but that didn't matter. In 15 minutes I'd be marching off, back down to the armouries, and then getting my coat on and hopping into a car and heading back down to the base for lunch and a couple of good stiff drinks. Then I'd go home for a hot shower and a nap (I was a highschool student at the time after all). And get back to my normal life. The veterans who attended the ceremony, were they ever able to get back to their normal lives? What the fuck could be normal after what they'd seen? And the ones who didn't make it home. No "back to normal" for them or their families. Ever.

So seeing Charles decked out in the uniform was awesome - but it also felt a bit like a hit to the gut. Here's this kid who is so proud to be wearing his mum's old uniform - and wearing it very well, I might add. And all I can think is that I don't ever want to see him wearing one of those for real. What I would really like to see is no more war, and no more Silver Cross Mothers - ever. We need to tell our government. It's definitely time to stop.

breakfast conversation

2007-11-08T18:55:00.000-05:00

Here's what went down in our house this morning. Max informs us that he's making a movie. I don't know where this puts his plans to run a candy store that is LLBO licensed, but whatever. Now, he's a big movie maker.

Max: so daddy is the special effects guy and Charles is going to be the star
me: so you're the director?
Max: no, Uncle Michael is the director
me: um ok... So what am I?
Max: you're the villain
me: Woo! So can I be Poison Ivy?
Max: no, you're "Viner"
me: um ok....what's the deal with "Viner"?
Max: she covers everything in vines - she shoots out vines!
me: Cool ok I'm in
Max: and also? She has minions.

Seriously, there is not enough coffee in the world to prepare you for this type of chat before 7:30am. And lest you disagree with me? You'll need to go through my minions.

more smile-worthy awesomeness

2007-11-07T18:14:00.000-05:00

#1 How is it that my iPod seems to know exactly what I want to hear when I have it on shuffle? Whatevers. Leonard Cohen, Blonde Redhead, Lush and Arctic Monkeys on the way to work? That rocks.

#2 I love how Toronto looks like the Emerald City - all distant and misty and mysterious - from the top of the hill on my bus ride to work. My daily Dorothy moment, and it's so great.

#3 Upon seeing that someone at work has the exact same dress as me, being told by my co-worker: "Meh. Looks way better on you." Whether or not that is the case? Matters not. Thanks, Sharon.

funnhavin

2007-11-06T21:06:00.000-05:00

So my earlier post about the faux-Swedish at IKEA (well, I think it's faux - could there be that many names for lamps?) got me thinking about high school. Leap with me, k? It'll make sense shortly.

Back in high school we had this fantastic German teacher - as in she taught German - her actual ethnicity was Italian. I love this city. Anyway. She really taught us to speak German as opposed to just reading it, writing it and dissecting sentences and paragraphs. We used to have to listen to "Ziggy" - a guy from a Toronto radio station who did a German language program on Sundays. Miss M. would record Sunday's program and we'd all listen to it in class on Monday - we had to figure out what the interviews were about, what was happening on the news, and translate the lyrics to songs that were played. It was awesome.

In the 80s there were a few big German hits, remember? Der Kommissar, 99 Luftbaloons - maybe some others? Anyone? Well she'd get us to bring in our 45s (I know) and we'd all try some translation of those too. Very cool.

Every Friday we also had "Kaffe Konditorei" - she'd make coffee and tea and someone would be designated to run to Tim Horton's for donuts, and we'd all have to place our orders in German, then once we had our treats, we set the desks up like cafe tables and chatted in German while listening to Ziggy or some German music. Also awesome.

Miss M. had this great prop that she used regularly to explain any number of verb conjugations, scenarios, whatever. Hugo was a staple in our classroom and there was even an international (well, inter-classroominal) incident where Hugo was kidnapped, with dragging marks and little footprints leading to the art room. That was war, I tell you, but the German students prevailed and Hugo was returned unharmed. Good times.

So the really great thing about Miss M. was that she was pretty slack with the curriculum. I mean we learned, don't get me wrong, but it just wasn't the usual type of learning, and she absolutely loved creativity. We did a lot of talking in that class, which is right up my alley. So much talking, that it became almost second nature to just launch into the usual "how was your weekend?" chat in our new second language. Sometimes though, in our rush to talk about everything, some words weren't always remembered, and that's where we - the students - got creative. You know of course that English and German are a lot alike, right? Here's a list of some of our faves:

to wake up = upgewoken
to disembark - as in from a bus, train, etc. = offgetten
to stroll along, or mosey = mosen i.e. "let's mosey" = "mosen wir"
to drink socially, as in too much and at a party = rumundkokentrinken
to make out (high school, remember??) = ausmaken

Oh there were plenty more, but those stand out. Our Germglish was awesome, and honestly if you threw one of those into a sentence in your best German accent? Totally worked.

So other than making y'all aware of what passed for entertainment in my youth? There's really no point to that story. Now, without further adieu... Gute nacht. Zu beddgoin.

so....cold....

2007-11-05T21:34:00.000-05:00

So since all of a sudden freaking winter is here, I thought I'd post some warm thoughts in the form of a few photos I took on a garden tour last June...enjoy. And once I've finished sulking about the fact that yes, it is actually November, I'll be back with a proper blog post.

IKEA... Swedish for wtf??

2007-11-04T20:09:00.000-05:00

So I'm at IKEA today with my mother and my brother. Doesn't that sound like a totally kid thing to do? Home furniture and decor shopping with the family - bo-ring. My brother and I have spent some memorable moments shopping with our mum - or our mum and dad - and inevitably there is always some total crack-up moment or moments where we're both practically on the floor crying laughing.

Our parents used to take us grocery shopping and when we were really little they'd get two carts. I'd go in one and my bro in the other. And for some reason, if we saw each other at the opposite end of the aisle, that alone would set us off. So we'd start to giggle and then within a few minutes we would be full-on belly laughing with tears running down our cheeks and everyone else in the store would be in the same state. Hi-larious. And honestly, there was really nothing to laugh at. Just the sight of one of us at the other end of the aisle. That's it. Pretty stupid when you think about it, but it worked for us.

Other times we'd be in the furniture section of Sears or some other big department store and we'd be turning lights on and off and for some reason that would be hysterical too. Because it was probably accompanied by some urbane and witty remarks like "light goes on, light goes off". And again? That was more than enough to reduce us to giggling fools. And of course, the more people stared, the harder we laughed until we were shrieking and our parents would roll their eyes and take us home.

So you'd think by the time we'd reached 39 and 40 respectively, we'd be over such nonsense, and be able to shop like adults. And probably we could, on our own, but today with our mum, it was like being 8 and 9 all over again:

me: I totally wonder who comes up with the names for these products?
bro: Me too - crazy - a coffee mug called Almhult? Come on.
me: Haha - I've always wanted to use the IKEA product names as the stuff's actual name, wouldn't that be awesome?
bro: *laughing now* yeah - like you have someone over for coffee and you ask them "would you like a cup and saucer or an Almhult?"
me: *giggling* exactly! Or, "hey, it's getting a little dark in here, can you turn on the Malm?"
bro: *full-on hysterics now* that's perfect! "Have a seat in the Poang, won't you?"
me: *uncontrollable laughing now* hahahahahaha!
mum: What are you two laughing at?
us: Nothing *snort*

See? Stupid as all get out. But for us? Total bonding. That's what it's all about.

happy halloween!

2007-11-03T19:49:00.001-04:00

Okay, yeah I'm a little late. But I'm just getting around to uploading the halloween pics tonight. And also, I got nothing else for a blog post. I'm nothing if not honest, but a kickboxing class this morning + karate class this afternoon just done knocked me out.

So enjoy the photos... a ninja and a sailor walk into a bar....

several bits of awesomeness

2007-11-02T14:45:00.000-04:00

If you have never read the blog "Three Beautiful Things", I suggest you go there now, or else this post won't make any sense. Okay, maybe it will, but whatever. You should check it out. In 3BT (as the homies call it) the author lists three things each day which give her pleasure. Sometimes they are extravagant or massive in scope, real life-changing events; other times they are everyday little pleasures, like the comfort of wearing warm socks and such. I love it.

I especially love it because most of my life is made up of finding pleasure in the ridiculous or the mundane. It's true, you can ask anyone that knows me. I have been known, in the past to utter the words "this is the BEST DAY EVER" - and really, you can substitute "day" for any number of other words - pizza, dress, pair of shoes, martini, song, episode of some tv show - you get the picture.

Max apparently has inherited this trait. He's even more extreme though, if you can believe it. Max makes sweeping statements such as "this is the BEST DAY OF MY LIFE" - or, again, as with me, substitute anything else for "day" - although maybe not martini - yet. He has also made comments such as "this is the BEST SANDWICH IN THE HISTORY OF SANDWICHES". How awesome is that? Like there's someone taking down an actual history of sandwiches and he's somehow managed to tap in to the formula for the best sandwich EVER.

Whenever he makes one of these little speeches, I always think "wow, I hope he never grows out of this, it's so refreshing to hear such excitement for such a little thing". And then I remember, um, I haven't so far, so I think he's probably going to be that guy his whole life. I can see him at university "this is the BEST keg party in the HISTORY of keg parties!"

Anyway, for some time now I've thought of borrowing the whole 3BT idea, and blogging my moments of beauty. I think when you're a grown-up (like I technically I am) it's easy to get bogged down in all the crap that happens in life, and forget about the good stuff. And even if the "good stuff" just happens to be stepping into a pair of warm socks on a cold day? Well, so be it. Finding pleasure in the mundane, the everyday occurences is brilliant - and it's necessary to keep your sanity. The old saying that no matter how bad you've got it, someone else is going through something much worse rings so true as you get older. It's truly easy to have a bad week and to focus on that bad week - you know the kind: you miss your bus, have to walk in the rain without your umbrella, get behind in a bill payment and have to pay gobs of interest, forget to send in your kid's permission form for a trip - all that stuff. It's little too, but for some reason we manage to focus on those mundane little things, don't we? And all of those things put together makes for a crappy week, no question. But every day, little good things happen too, and for some reason, we never seem to make those our focus. Well Max and I do, but we're strange that way. And even Max and I have a bad week every so often.

So consider this my inaugural 3BT post. I'm not using the exact same title, that wouldn't be fair. And also, I can't promise that they will always be things that give me pleasure (even typing that sounds dirty!) but they will always be things that make me smile and are awesome, quirky or downright thought-provoking. To me, anyway. Plus? They will be trivial. Because that's how I roll.

So I give you today's Bits of Awesomeness According to e-L (BOAATEL - not as catchy as 3BT, sorry):

#1 a memory-evoking fragrance
Earlier this week I was strolling over to buy a coffee when I passed a man in the hallway and caught a distinct whiff of Ralph Lauren's Polo. Now, any of you who were in highschool in the 80s can totally conjure up that fragrance right now, just sitting at your computers, am I right? So as I walked past I smiled and was instantly transported back to the gaudily decorated gym with Stairway to Heaven pumping out of the speakers and my nose pressed up against a guy's collar, practically choking on Polo fumes for about the 10th time in a night. Good times. So thanks, random hallway dude. Thanks for the memories.

#2 a rockstar moment
I'm not much of a dreamer, I honestly don't have too many real sleeping dreams. Well, technically I do of course, but I never seem to remember them. Still, when I dozed off after hitting the snooze button one day this week I had this brief dream encounter with Robert Plant at a concert, and Robert was all "dude I've been waiting for you, how are you?" and I was seriously giving him the cold shoulder all haughty-groupie me, and then we totally went backstage and made out. Which is weird, because Plant is not my go-to rockstar for dream make-out sessions. I attribute this to all the hype about the Led Zeppelin reunion gig in London later this month (and seriously, how awesome is that going to be??) The Plant permeates all, apparently. Even my post-snooze button dreams. Anyway, I had to smile when I woke up. Me and Robert. Nice. Oh, and just so you know? It was totally this Robert Plant - not this Robert Plant. I know. Score.

And did you like how I merged the Zeppelin reference in #1 to the #2 reference? I'm all about the segue.

#3 roasted marshmallow flavoured coffee
Crazy tasty. But I got no Zeppelin connection.

hells no, i won't nablopomo!

2007-11-01T07:23:00.000-04:00

So that's pretty much what I said to Vivian when she asked was I going to NaBloPoMo again this year. Last year I rocked it, posting all 30 days. But then, the blog she has been neglected for some time lately, so I really wasn't sure I could do the whole month - and if I can't do it right? Well I just don't want to do it. But then - THEN! I checked out the website and look how new! How shiny! How social! Obviously NaBloPoMo has hit the big time, and they've got the fancy stuff to prove it.

So, I thought, maybe this is what I need to kick my own blog into high gear once again. Maybe this will be the start of a new blogging e-L - all posty all the time! Maybe grand things will come from me participating in NaBloPoMo again! Or, maybe I just didn't want to be left out. You know, the whole "cool kids are doing it" thing gets me every time.

So I'm signed up as of right this instant. Wanna be friends?

and here i thought it was just me

2007-09-21T09:21:00.000-04:00

I read library blogs. And I read librarian blogs. And this week, there's been a lot of excitement over this.

Wooeeee! Lots of people excited 'bout that ad campaign! And so picture me, mouth agape, thinking - come on! Who honestly thinks this is a good idea?? It boggles my mind. So librarians have been touting it as a "wow, they really know their customers!" sort of deal, and I really just have to shake my head.

I guess I thought the public library was supposed to be a place that appealed to everyone, not just truckers and misogynists, or misogynistic truckers? I'm sorry, Wyoming, but this is just sad.

You can read the Annoyed Librarian's take on this too. Go give her some love.

giant crazy one-of-everything lady and the man with the scarlet hair

2007-09-17T21:18:00.000-04:00

I know. I totally had you at "giant crazy one-of-everything lady", didn't I?

So up until now, I haven't said a lot about the people who frequent my place of work. I've talked a bit about a few of the patients - not specifically, of course, and that is never going to happen, trust me - but in general. As in, I see a lot of cancer patients. In fact, that's pretty much all I see. Sometimes we get people who are just looking for information for school projects or whatever, but for the most part, the users of my library are patients, and have been dealt a rotten hand. Big time. And I feel for them, for their families. Our library users are pretty much just regular people, trying to find some info on a disease that has kicked them six ways from Sunday and rocked their worlds on so many levels that it's all they can do to get up and continue the fight. Once in awhile though, there are some real prizes. Now please don't go all sanctimonious on me, k? We're friends. And I am not going to say "bitch totally got what she deserved" because I am SO not that guy. What I will say is that just like anywhere else, you're going to find pricks and you're going to find crazies. And here's the thing: if you were a prick before you were diagnosed with an illness, there's a really good chance that you will continue to be a prick after said diagnosis. And further: if you were bananas before a lifechanging event? Same deal. Pricks and crazies. They are the staples of the library patron world. So far I've run into very, very few people who fall into this category. But they do exist, and there is a good chance that down the road? You're going to be hearing about them.

Like today.

Today, I feel the need to talk about the 2 people mentioned in the subject line. Can you guess which category they fall into? Okay good, but let's not spoil it for the rest.

Giant crazy one-of-everything lady is. Just. That. She's giant. As in she is probably about 6'5" tall and almost twice as wide as me. And dudes, you need to know that I am not a waif. But I feel like a Polly Pocket next to this woman. She comes in once every 3-4 weeks, and she's definitely a crazy. She's not a patient - but apparently she's with one - lucky them. Every time she comes in she makes a point of saying "I'm not a patient, but I'm not well myself". Like we couldn't tell. Anyway, her raison-d'etre seems to be to drain the library of every single brochure, booklet and paper handout. "I love information and I love to learn! Learning is so important! And I'm interested in everything! I'll take this all home and study it and read it and oh it's so important to have information!" Uh huh. She must, by now, have 12 copies of everything we have - including the testicular self-exam card and the "prostate cancer risk assessment tool". And still she keeps coming. This week she was in, pillaging my pamphlet racks, and informing me that she's planning to be a library volunteer - because she loves learning, and information and yadda yadda. "Great!" I tell her, knowing full well that all volunteers must pass the background-crazy test, which she'd totally fail without question, so I can be all polite and enthusiastic when it comes to this subject. Whew. She's also not above asking for dating and relationsip advice and tips on "getting a man". During one encounter she asked "why are men so strange when it comes to dating?" Hmmmm....wow giant crazy lady, I really don't know what it could be.

Do y'all know anyone that just makes you full on laugh with abandon when you see them? For me, it's the "man with the scarlet hair". This guy isn't a patient either, he's actually a volunteer. And his hair is indeed scarlet - or maybe it's crimson, or vermillion - whatever. It's a colour that does not exist in nature, and until now, I didn't know it existed in chemical form either. When I first laid eyes on the guy, I seriously thought he was wearing a hat or some such headwear. It's a bold statement, for sure, and the really excellent part is that his sideburns, eyebrows and stubble are always a combination of blonde/grey - not scarlet. Are you gettting the visual? He is a sight to behold, this Ronald McDonald of the cancer centre. I truly want to know what the deal is - does he think it's cool? Sexy? Debonair? Or, maybe he does it for the reason I mentioned above - it gives me (and no doubt others) the fits of the giggles when he comes into view. Maybe he's willing to look like a crazy just to evoke smiles from patients? If that's the case, I totally respect that, and would like to introduce him to our therapy clowns. One day I might get up the courage to ask him about his hair.

Or maybe I'll just introduce him to giant crazy one-of-everything lady and see how that works itself out.

5 minutes i'll never get back...and neither will you

2007-09-16T21:33:00.001-04:00

Yeah. Um....sorry. But almost worth it, right?

angry haiku of the day

2007-09-13T10:53:00.000-04:00

I'm Elizabeth
Please do not call me "Liz", jerk
I will kick your ass.

save the ta-tas!

2007-09-07T13:37:00.000-04:00

I don’t normally go in for a lot of the cancer-related merchandising, but this site made me laugh. And then it made me mad to read the article about the girl who was sent home from school for wearing her ta-tas t-shirt. But I’m sure Hooters shirts are okay? Sigh… Anyway, the site’s message is good. And they really do give back, so I just thought I’d share.

[painfully obvious segue]

So one of my best friends is walking in the big Weekend to End Breast Cancer event in Toronto. 60km over two days. 6-0. People, this is a lot of walking. She and another friend are staying in a hotel on the Saturday night, but something tells me it won’t be a night of dancing in the hotel bar and shamelessly flirting while consuming large, overpriced martinis. There will be much, much sleeping and possibly soaking of feet, is what I think. Anyway, Viv has raised over $2000 for this cause, which in itself is a pretty amazing accomplishment. Add to that the enormous amount of walking and….well, she’s just amazing.

Breast cancer gets a lot of press. It’s out there and it’s pink and there are so many baubles (or is that boobles?) that you can buy. I’ve really got nothing against the ribbons and the “stuff”, because they are out there, and they’re promoting awareness, which is so important. What hurts, for me, is that while all the merch fosters hope and awareness, there is also such a glut of it in the marketplace, that the message – breast cancer kills – gets lost amongst the hype.

And it does kill. Almost everyone I know has lost someone to breast cancer, and everyone I know has been affected by it – whether personally or knowing a friend or relative who has/had it. It’s a horrible, horrible disease. “Early detection saves lives” – well, not always. “Once you’ve had surgery and treatment, you’re cured, right?” – nope, no guarantees. “Once you have surgery, the cancer can’t spread” – again, sorry, no guarantees.

In the 8 months I’ve worked in the patient library, I’ve learned more about breast cancer (and cancer in general) than I ever cared to know. I’ve spoken with breast cancer patients who knew they were going to die, and ones who had just received good news. I’ve helped women research places to go to buy mastectomy bras, and helped others find information on what brain metastases are. I’ve found them books on how to tell their children that they have cancer, and laughed with them when their “chemo brain” was showing and they couldn’t remember their phone number. I’ve had some of the most painful days of my life here, and some of the most triumphant. All in 8 months. Never, ever have I been able to say that about any other job I’ve ever held.

So go. Go and sponsor Vivian for her walk – it’s not too late! And please, the next time you see a pink ribbon teddy bear or a pair of earrings, don’t just say “oh, how cute!” Please, please…get angry. Get angry that this disease takes so many women and men. Get angry. And remember.

Oh, and Viv? If by some chance all that stuff about dancing and flirting and martinis does go down? I’m so in for next year. You rock my world, girlfriend. And I am so proud of you.

and now....from our "no shit, Sherlock" department...

2007-09-04T15:17:00.000-04:00

Rock 'n' roll will never die - but its stars go young

Wow. Shut up. Who knew?

/sarcasm

they be jammin'

2007-08-21T20:04:00.001-04:00

I know I promised you a unicorn chaser, but truth be known, I'm really not much of a unicorn girl. So, instead, please enjoy the awesomeness of this video. One kid, totally rocking with his bass, and the other? Well you just gotta watch.

And if you don't at least crack a smile, check for a pulse.

i can totally do without the following:

2007-08-12T19:11:00.000-04:00

I have a high tolerance for television advertising, but there are a few that have got under my skin and are starting to fester. Bear with me...

Bell's Frank & Gordon the spokesbeavers.
Okay, so these guys used to (at first) kinda make me laugh. Haha - it's Canada! And it's Bell, a totally Canadian company! And they're spokesbeavers - get it?? So funny! But now? They totally need to be made into hats.

Same goes for PC and Mac. At first I was all over it - very funny and original concept for sure. But it's done, people. And ok, I know there are lots of y'all who are feisty either one way or the other, and truly, I don't care. I own a PC but I think Mac is pretty cool. But the passive-aggressive foreplay that passes for "banter"? Totally getting on my nerves. Those two guys need to get a room. Seriously, if they're not going to get it on, they need to start beating each other with big sticks. And don't email me to tell me who'd win, because I don't care. I just need to see a big ol' PC vs. Mac smackdown. That's entertainment.

Oh and the Rogers commercial with the dude who gets all misty-eyed at the guy whose cell phone doesn't break up in the elevator? Kind of funny - at first. Then? Then, they had to do the same freaking thing but with an ESCALATOR this time? Wow! How original.

The Jetta commercial where the dudes in lab coats come in and save the people from baseballs through the window and toolboxes falling out of windows? Kind of freaks me out, really. I'm not sure why, but maybe it's because the guys all look like they're from Kraftwerk. Kraftwerk to the rescue? Now, normally I would think that was pretty cool - so maybe if they were playing Trans Europe Express throughout, I don't know - but I'm tired of it already.

Those "Life Takes Visa" commercials where all the beautiful people tap their Visa cards and buy their lattes and highbrow newspapers - and then the average dude in the plaid shirt tries to buy a doughnut with cash and they all treat him like a leper. Wrong on so many levels. First, should we really be encouraging our already debt-enslaved culture to start buying their morning paper with Visa? Also, did you notice the class distinction between the Visa users and cash dude? To me, the message is if you don't use a Visa card you're not one of us, you're trash. Thanks, Visa.

So there you have it. My Crabby McCrabster post to reenter blogging after over a month's hiatus. Sue me. I was sick for my whole vacation, and I'm still not over it.

Next post will be a unicorn chaser. Promise.

and if all your hopes survive, destiny will arrive...

2007-07-04T22:43:00.000-04:00

So my sister-in-law sent me this link yesterday:

Xanadu on Broadway

Is this not the best?? The universe is loving me right now.

Also, I really like how it says "Xanadu On Broadway. Seriously." Ha.

And now I'm trying to figure out how to get my ass to New York.

what the?

2007-06-16T19:44:00.000-04:00

So what happened to me? Dy'all even remember me? Didn't I totally rock NaBloPoMo back in the day? (what was that, like March?) And now? Now I can barely post twice a month. I guess it's just life. And stuff. And summer. I'm digging the heat and being out of doors and all that, so the blogging is suffering. Also, the weeks just seem to be flying by, as they usually do when the weather is nice, and when I look back at my last post of June 3rd, I thought "ah, ok well it's only a few days ago..." See that? That's the sort of thing that happens as you get older.... Tempus fugit. Happy days though, blogfriends, happy days.

So tonight I'm on my own, the boys having gone off to a karate demonstration and exhibition known as "Fight Night". Cool. So what am I doing? Well, blogging....drinking wine....and making Max a mixed CD cos he asked me to. And his list of songs was pretty specific, I'll have you know. He's got some eclectic tastes that boy does. Here's a sample:

Heaven and Hell - The Who
Life is a Highway - Tom Cochrane
The Boxer - Simon & Garfunkel
Tell Me Baby - Red Hot Chili Peppers
Welcome to Paradise - Green Day

Yeah to alla that. Oh and also a couple of tunes from Happy Feet thrown on there, cos you know, he's 6. And he's the rockingest 6-year old that EVAH rocked.

does anyone else do this?

2007-06-03T21:41:00.000-04:00

Yesterday I left the sticky-stick of the heat of the Hammer and off I went to the Arcticly-cold mall in search of sandals. I had a gift card since my birthday and it was burning the proverbial hole, so it had to be done. Also, I need sandals. So once I had my sandals, naturally, I started looking for, you know, other stuff to buy.

I ended up shopping for sunglasses, not because I don't own any, but because I am so over the ones I do own. So I hit a variety of shops, looking for the perfect pair. All the glasses this season, as I'm sure y'all know, are BIG. As in Jackie O big. As in my mother circa 1973 big. Which is cool, except that e-L does not own the type of face designed for the big sunglasses. Really. Everyone I see is rocking the giant frames but for some reason, when I put them on, my whole face gets swallowed. And for those of you who know me, you know I'm not some delicately-featured waif who normally gets swallowed up by anything. So I'm not sure what the deal is, I just know the biguns just don't suit.

Finally though, I did find a few pairs that were big but not too and that actually looked pretty cool, so I proceeded to try them on in a comparison shopping sort of way. But. And here's where - according to the people around me, anyway - it gets a bit weird. So I have my 6 or 8 pairs which I need to compare and pretty quickly I narrow it down to about 4. Now I'm not the only person trying on glasses, there's a few of us scattered around and we're all checking the teeeeeny little sunglasses-trying-on-mirrors attempting to choose the best pair. So I'm putting them on my nose, having a good look in the mirror and then, taking them off my nose and placing them on my head. Is this so weird? I don't know - all I know is, for me, the look of the glasses on my head is almost as important as the look on my face. So I continue the pattern - glasses - face - glasses - head. And I'm getting looks. And then, not just looks, but actual people-moving-away-to-use-other-mirrors. And then I start thinking, maybe no one else tries sunglasses on their head. So I try to check out the people around me, and it's just all about the face. Hmmm....

So help me out, is this so strange? Do any of you, my fabulous blogfriends, do the face-head sunglasses thing? Does anyone else care about the look and feel of their sunglasses on their head? And if you were trying sunglasses on in my vicinity and I was putting them on my head, would you find another mirror? What happened to tolerance in my city, can't we all, as fans of sunglasses, just get along? I'm just saying.

how to get a half-price bikini wax

2007-05-29T19:40:00.001-04:00

Here at e-L's amazing journey, we really do try to keep it clean. You know, there might be the occasional swoon over a certain ageless rockstar, or perhaps a super-smart tv star or two, but for the most part, we try to keep it above the waist, keeping it more cerebral. Sure. Having said that, e-L is about to delve into areas never-before explored...you know, in blogland that is...

So my aesthetician is on an extended sick leave (I say "my" as if I own her, but clearly she's just the friendly girl who rips hair from me on occasion) and I do wish her a speedy recovery, for reasons which are about to become abundantly clear (and also because I want her to feel better). Since I have no idea how long she's going to be off, I was pleased when the owner of the place called and said she'd be happy to book me in for my waxing with one of the "new" aestheticians. So ok, sounds fine, but little did I know that "new" meant not only new to the spa, but also "new" to the profession. Oy.

So at the appointed time, I head on down and am greeted by this "new" person - she's friendly as all get-out, takes my coat and tells me she's all ready for me *cue horror movie incidental music* and leads me to the spa room. She leaves me to get organized (as is the custom) and when she comes back, she's all smiles and let's get down to business. So we chat, and have you ever done the bikini wax chat? It's like no other, really. "How was your day, can you believe this weather, any plans for the weekend?" all while coating your crotch with blazing hot wax. Surreal. Anyway, she gets all set and red flag number one: she's clumsy. Clumsy. Not a word you normally associate with this profession. So there's wax dripping, strips knocked off the counter, gloves dropped, lamps hit... Okay, no big, it's obviously nerves, she's new to the place, I'm new to her, I can handle this. All the while she's super chatty, spreading the wax, chatting, more wax, chatting. Now, I'm no professional, but I do know this little equation: wax goes on liquid + too much chatting time while not removing wax = wax hardening to lavender-scented concrete. This would be red flag number two. So okay, now for the removal "I'm just going to take the strip off.....now" Ohholymotherofgod. "oh gosh, sorry, I bet that hurt!" Um yeah. But ok, whatever, I've got good pain tolerance, we continue. Eventually, through chatting, all is revealed (no, thankfully not all that) and she is, in fact, a brand new graduate from aesthetics school! And this is her first bikini wax! And nope, she's never ever had one herself! Which explains why she seemed to have no idea of the Nazi-grade pain she was inflicting. Oh, and all of this first part? Took close to 20 minutes, which is way, way too long to hang out on a vinyl table in your gitch.

So...moving on to the next side...

Things go from bad to worse now, as the wax continues to harden and she starts to sweat and practically needs to use the table as leverage to rip the strips off and e-L is nearly on the ceiling at several points. But still, I'm handling it all until I hear... "uh-oh...um....I think I need to go get someone..." I'm all wtf??? What is going on down there? So I look and there is a strip and it's way, way too far in for my liking. Great. So off she goes and fetches someone else, and now there are 2 of them peering at my privates and this is how it went down:

2nd girl: oh dear
1st girl: I'm so sorry!
2nd girl: don't worry, we'll just have to use the scissors
me: you have to what now??
2nd girl: we'll just have to cut it out! (said in a cute sing-song voice like she was offering freezies)
me: um.....ok?
1st girl: (now in tears) oh my gosh I am so sorry, I feel so bad!
me: haha...oh not to worry (for the record, I don't think I've ever had anyone cry whilst gazing upon my nether regions before, I really think that's a first)

So now the two of them are performing this wax-strip removal surgery, and as I was lying there, I flashed back to the time I spent in labour and delivery, and fully expected one of them to tell me how far I was dilated, and to breathe through the next contraction. And I nearly sat up and said "thanks but no thanks, I'm taking my leave now" but then I thought, you know? This isn't going to kill me, I can deal. The poor girl really did feel so badly, she was crying for goodness sake. And doesn't everyone deserve a fair chance? I mean there are nurses out there setting their first IVs, giving their first injections, someone has to be the first patient, right? Everywhere there are stylists doing their first haircut, police officers making their first arrest, librarians conducting their first reference interview...my point is, everyone has to do something 1 time first, in order to do it right again and again. Practice makes perfect, as the saying goes, and so I hobbled out of the spa room (for reals) and up to the counter to pay, and they kindly offered me a 50% discount and loaded me up bunch of free samples of lotion, sunscreen, body wash, etc. to help with the pain and suffering. I told them it really wasn't necessary, but they insisted and thanked me again for being so patient, so understanding. I honestly think the phrase "dream client" was used, but that could have been the pain talking...

So I was glad I stayed, because what if her first time had been with someone who wasn't so patient and understanding? It could throw a person off their chosen career, it really could. Some pain in the crotchal region is a small price to pay for helping someone along on their path.

Plus? I get to blog about it. And I'm a whore for free samples.