Larocque and Roll

Shutting down my brain August 30, 2005

Tonight, I am making the decision to turn the computer off (except to post this, and who knows - I may get sucked in anyways) and do something different. Like, knitting and watching a movie, or reading, or going for a walk, or baking something.

I’ve spent too much time lately trying to put things in order or clean up little messes and making other messes in the process. There are only so many decisions you can make at a time before your brain gets stuck in a feedback loop, where every time you sit down and try and put it into neutral, it just starts repeating a message that sounds suspiciously like a mother nagging you to get up and go clean your room and do the dishes and vacuum or write a book report (I’m woefully behind on that - sorry) or post pictures or something - just don’t sit there doing nothing!

The last straw came last night when I went to bed. My dreams were all about trying to accomplish various tasks so I could chill for a while, but they never seemed to end. The highlight had to be surfacing from the dream, remembering that I needed to water the geese and walk the camel. I woke up thinking, “Wait - geese? I have a camel?” It wasn’t even quarter after 6 and already I was stressed out trying to figure out where I put the camel.

So tonight I am going to park my brain at the door and tell the nagging voice to take a long walk off a short pier. I will ignore the last load of laundry I need to do (towels), and put the clean clothes that are folded on my dining room table in a basket and hide it somewhere I won’t need to look at it. I will go for a walk, come home and haul out my knitting and watch “Kung Fu Hustle” or a few episodes of “Firefly” or “The Fellowship of the Ring” with the actor’s commentary, or - what the hell - do all of that. I just won’t do anything that will lead to more work which needs to be done RIGHT NOW.

If you’ll excuse me, I need to go look in my storage locker for the geese. They’re getting thirsty, after all.

Katrina II

Dear God,

At first, I though maybe you hadn’t seen my previous post about New Orleans, but then I realized you probably had, and were thinking, “Um, I’m trying to save LIVES here, duh!” Naturally, my response is, “Oh. Right. Sorry - keep up the good work!” I mean, houses and buildings are just things, but lives are important. And not just now, but in the near future as well, when people start returning to the city and finding their homes are ruined. They are going to be pretty emotionally devastated, and are going to need You more than ever. My cousin and his family got out safely, as did many others, and that’s what’s really important. So, ignore what I said earlier.

But, I should also give You a heads up, because I know what else is coming. See, I’m good at anticipating things. Things like sunrise and sunset, and what happens when mommy and daddy love each other very much. Also things like spring will follow winter, which follows autumn, which follows summer, which - surprise! - is followed by spring. What did I tell You? This stuff is easy!

Something else I anticipate - stupid religious wingnut idiots saying that You did this to punish the city for its sinful and wicked ways, to punish Americans for being sinful and wicked, and to drive home the point that if we don’t mend our sinful and wicked ways, this is going to happen to us eventually, too.

Frankly? I’d rather live in sin that live in fear that if I don’t do everything they tell me You told me to do I’d be punished. Because - honestly? - I think You have better things to worry about right now. When parents go around beating their children for every little offence, it’s considered child abuse, and I think that if you love us enough to give us things like rainbows and laughter and love, You’re not the type to go around hitting us if we don’t fall into ideological lockstep with the bullies. Just a guess, though.

(This isn’t to say that there won’t be amazing acts of generosity and selflessness done in Your name too. And I’m sure that there are quite a few people who’ll park their personal feelings at the door and deal with the victims as human beings who are hurt in ways they can’t imagine. Those are the ones I’d rather associate with.)

Anyways, thanks again and keep looking after them!
r.

Ten minute love post August 29, 2005

I don’t really have anything to say tonight, but I feel like I should leave you with something. Hence, another ten minute post! (I did this once before already.)

Let’s see… a picture!

Actually, the picture I was going to post doesn’t seem to be on my hard drive. It’s on a CD, but the CD is in a box on a bookcase, and I am simply too lazy to go find it.

But wait!

Here’s a picture of my feet! I’m wearing flip-flops, which I don’t normally do. Mostly I just wear them around my apartment because they have nice squishy soles. But because I’m a klutz, I usually end up slipping because they don’t have very good soles.

And that’s 10. Most of the time was spent looking for a pic. I’ll try to have something ready ahead of time next time.

It’s like having a new apartment, but not really August 28, 2005

Okay, so the only pictures I got around to posting are the ones of my newly rearranged apartment. Thanks to Marylynn for the advice, which is what I eventually did - left everything in piles and went to bed, and did the sorting in the morning. It still took all day and a minimal amount of swearing, but everything is where it belongs.

This is the best overview of the whole thing. The bookcase you can sort of see is the only one I didn’t take apart, since it’s all paperbacks.

This is the view from the other direction.

These are the two bookshelves that gave me the most grief. If you go to the actual photo, you can see what’s on the shelves.

Last pic!

Katrina

Dear God,

The only American city I’ve had any interest in visiting is New Orleans. Please don’t destroy it.

Thanks,
r.

(Maybe I should stop watching CNN now.)

End apathy now! August 27, 2005

I don’t know what’s wrong with me, except that my autopilot seems to be stuck on “Vague, Glassy-Eyed Stare.” It is an especially good time to try and sell me something since I seem to be physically incapable of putting items down in any store and saying, “No!”

Witness the shopping spree for organization toys (namely, boxes and things to hold other things) that took place between 7:30PM and 9:00PM last night - I hit three stores and did considerable damage (although one of those stores was Home Sense, so the damage to my bank account wasn’t as bad as I thought.) But I had to go back today to get the magazine holder that matched the slim paper holder and square drawer things I bought last night - it’s not because I’m a completist. No, certainly not. It’s because I didn’t want someone to go wandering around the store on a futile hunt for the other two pieces that matched the magazine holder and not find them. It would annoy them. Or maybe it would annoy me if I were in their shoes. Whatever.

So I did go back and get the matching magazine holder, and picked up two plates that matched a vase Julie got at Ikea last week, and two books on retro decorating. As the clerk was putting the things into bags, she was going to put everything into separate bags, but I stopped her and told her the books would fit in the magazine holder. The two women in line behind me started whispering, and the one said to the other, “Oh, she should just put the books into the bag with that holder thing. It makes more sense than getting another bag.”

Hi there! Firstly, I can hear you! Secondly, that’s what I’m doing! Thirdly, it was slightly creepy to turn around and catch the two of you talking about me, and then have you both start giggling!

So anyways. Armed with all my fun toys for organizing (including a label maker!), you’d think I’d be in hog heaven today, sorting and filing and rearranging things. Yet, strangely, I can’t muster the energy to do anything. I should have just quelled my urge to play organizer this morning and done what any sane person should do on a Saturday morning - go to the market, come home, and spend the day eating junk food, knitting and watching movies (which is what I had originally planned on doing).

Except that now my futon/couch is awash in fun storage boxes, and I’m stuck trying to decide what’s going in them. I’ve taken everything off one bookshelf and started on another. There is recycling piled by the door and four cases of empty beer bottles in my closet that need to be returned. I’ve promised everyone pictures and that ain’t happening - at least, today. I’m going to regroup and go from there. I haven’t eaten since this afternoon when I had a couple of ears of corn, so a trip to Subway is in order since I can’t seem to decide what I want to make for dinner.

Maybe what I need is someone to come over and poke me with a stick until I make up my mind about what I want to do - or, better yet, just tell me where to put everything.

Are you busy tonight?

I owe you an apology August 26, 2005

To the guy in the electronics store that used to be Radio Shack:

I am so sorry I lost it on you on Wednesday. I don’t know what came over me, but you didn’t deserve the full force of my biting sarcasm crashing down upon your head. Clearly, when faced with a woman with her hair in pigtails, wearing a loud lime green skirt and clashing tank top, who is waving around a television cable, and insists on calling the filter on the end “the silver doohicky,” all you can do is use your calm, reasonable, “I’m dealing with a freak who doesn’t know what she’s talking about” voice. I get it - I totally get it. I’ve been there and done that - I worked in a public library, so I understand. And how did I react? Not only did I unleash The Look, I used The Voice. You did not deserve to be hit with both guns at the same time.

And not only did you fix what I’d spent twenty minutes earlier that day (and forty minutes a few months back) fighting with, you didn’t charge me for it, and were actually pleasant. Which made me feel like an even bigger ass.

Good on you, electronics store boy. May you live a spider-free existence.

To Lise:

I still have your apartment keys from when I picked up your mail while you were cruising around California in a convertible. You lucky bird, you. And we’ve been trying to co-ordinate our schedules so that I can return them to you. But since we’re both ladies of the world who travel extensively, that’s been impossible. So when you invited me to go out with you and your friends on Wednesday night at the bar down the street, I cleared some mental headspace and decided I would be there.

So where was I Wednesday night at 9pm? Glad you asked - standing in the middle of what was once my living room and was now a pile of furniture and cushions, waiting for my dinner to cook and making little whining noises. Not only did I have to put my apartment back together, I had to pack for another road trip (having not recovered from the previous one), water my plants, and eat. My brain was fried, and I felt like a marble on an uneven floor - I didn’t know which way to roll first.

I’m sorry I flaked out. We’ll go to Starbucks next week and laugh at my silly little anxiety attacks.

To Ex-Future-Ex:

I have no clue what came over me earlier this evening. Maybe I was jealous that you get spam in your comments, and I don’t, so I lashed out at the spammers and grammatically-challenged in this post. It’s your blog and your place to “school” your commentators - next time, I’ll hold my tongue.

To the woman with the loud and annoying children in the Dollar Store who let the door close on my foot:

I’m not at all sorry I sarcastically thanked you for holding the door open for me. So there.

A change of scenery August 24, 2005

At some point yesterday, perhaps when I was caught in construction-based traffic between North Bay and home, I decided that I wanted to rearrange the furniture in my apartment. Mostly, I was just bored with the way things were. So I got home, drew a scale model of my apartment, and cut out pieces to represent the major pieces of furniture - the futon (it’s my couch/spare bed - the bedroom isn’t being included in the rearranging at this time), the TV stand, two bookcases (one short one for photograph boxes, CDs, and other media things; the other a tall one with my reference materials), my desk, the pedestal my printer is on, and the dining room table.

However, there were some provisos:

1. The computer, TV, and radio could no longer be plugged into the same outlet. Using a series of extention cords and power bars, they’ve been plugged into the outlet on the one wall since last July. So far, no problems, but I don’t want to tempt Fate.
2. I bought a rug for the express purpose of being able to run the cable cord across to the opposite wall without it being exposed. So either the TV can move or the computer can move. It’s not like I can run the cable around doorways because there aren’t any in the living/dining/work areas. Plus, I don’t have a cable that long.
3. The dining room table stays where it is. I like that area designated as the “dining room” because it’s very close to the kitchen and gets lots of light.
4. There’s one outlet on one of the walls that is controlled by a light switch by my door. It’s the most annoying outlet because I either have to leave it on all the time, or get up and switch it on/off to control the light. Until now, I’ve had a lamp plugged in there, but it’s going to be moved. I’m thinking I’ll stop at Ikea on my way home in two weeks and get some light fixtures to go above the couch.
5. I have a painting that needs to be hung. It’s three ships on red velvet*, and it doesn’t weigh much.

So far, so good. The futon is where I want it, and the rug fits nicely. The CDs don’t all fit in the racks I bought, but the spill-over can go back on the bookcase where the DVDs and tapes will now live.

My question is, how do you decide to rearrange your furniture? Do you have a plan or do you make it up as you go? What advice/tips & tricks can you share?

* Shut up. It’s kitschy and I like it!

I went to the National Art Gallery and all I got was this stupid post card of The Voice of Fire August 23, 2005

Seriously? The most disappointing part of the whole trip was I didn’t get to see The Voice of Fire. (For everyone else who’s giving me the “Huh?” look - about fifteen or so years ago when the National Art Gallery bought The Voice of Fire, there was a huge public art cry about how much it cost, and how public money was being spent, and who was responsible, and what is “art” and who defines it, yada yada yada. Basically, the painting is an orange stripe with blue stripes on either side. Your five-year old neighbour could have painted it, but that’s not the point. The point is that I didn’t get to see it.)

Oh, the other disappointing part was that I forgot to take a picture of the really cool manhole covers. They have fish on them! How much fun is that! But I didn’t take a picture of them, nor did I take a picture of the sidewalk in the Byward Market, which also had fish on it, but that was because Julie was looking at me funny.

(And the Byward Market? Huge big fun. Loved it. Was thriving and busy at 4pm on a Sunday afternoon. Would spend oodles of time and copious amounts of money there if I lived in Ottawa.)

Right - the rest of the trip. My hosts - Julie, Randal, and Rion (their Jack Russell Terrier) - were fabulous. I highly recommend staying with them if you’re in the Ottawa area, especially since they live a very convenient distance from everything, including Parliament Hill, the Elgin Street Diner, and two Thai restaurants.

I pulled in around 3:30 or so, having left Sudbury later than I expected. The journey took about 6 or so hours, and I learned that I should not get the large tea if I don’t know how far it is to the next Tim Hortons (answer: from North Bay to Deep River, about two hours. Exactly 45 minutes too long.)

Once the introductions were done and I was settled in, we went for a “snack” at the Elgin Street Diner, which is a very cute little place. Excellent milkshakes and carrot maple soup. After the “snack” (it was around 4ish, and we were going for Thai later in the evening) chats and naps were had. I’d been craving Thai food for the longest time, and it didn’t take much arm-twisting to get Julie and Randal to take me to the restaurant a few blocks from their place. We split orders of Pad Thai, Green Curry Beef, and Cashew Chicken (*drool*).

The next day, Julie and I went for breakfast at this place called Eggspectations, so you can imagine what much of the menu consisted of. Yum. Afterwards, we walked up to Parliament Hill and saw all the government buildings and the obligatory Mountie on a horse posing for the tourists. Now, Julie suggests that I wouldn’t let her take my picture with the Mountie, but the truth is that by the time we started heading in that general direction, the Mountie had taken off. I will have you know I was prepared to live the cliché. All for the sake of posterity. So we wandered around, took pictures of statues and buildings, and confirmed theexistencee of the stray cat garden.

(In a nutshell: there is an enclosed area on Parliament Hill where a colony of former stray cats live. They are well-cared for by an elderly gent who looks after them, and there are lots of trees and shelter and hiding spots for the cats.)

Then we were off to the market, which overwhelmed me with its abundance. I made it out with some loose teas, beads, and Lush bath products. Julie made it out with some fish and veggies, having resisted the lure of beads and Lush.

That evening, I met up with Robin, a friend and former co-worker who moved to Ottawa last October, and we went out for Cambodian food. Which is much like Vietnamese food - really, I’m not sure what the difference is. I don’t remember exactly what we had, except for the raw spring rolls (delish!), something with udon noodles (the look and taste of really big spaghetti), and something with rice noodles. The chicken in one of the dishes didn’t sit well with me, so we stayed in and watched the best episodes of season 5 Farscape.

Monday I was pretty much left to my own devices, so I went to the National Art Gallery. The common wisdom is that the purpose of a journey is not all about the final destination, but also the getting-there, in which case I’m wondering what the purpose of getting lost in Hull, Quebec was. (Short version: not only the wrong street, but the wrong province.) And then the getting lost at the far end of Sussex Drive, around number 24* (Hi Paul! Sorry I missed you!) and Rideau Hall** (Hi Adrianne! Sorry I didn’t have time to stop for tea!) The worst part was I hadn’t eaten that morning, there was much construction and many detours, and I always seemed to miss my turn. The highlight was when I started shrieking at the person behind me who was honking their horn, “I just want to go straight for more than two blocks, you idiot! Why won’t you let me?” I’m sure the driver of that cement truck was very amused.

(* 24 Sussex Drive is the Prime Minister’s residence.)
(** Rideau Hall is theGovernorr-General’s residence. The G-G is the Queen’s rep in Canada, and currently it’s Adrianne Clarkson, but she’s due to be replaced in the near future by Michelle Jean. I could go on at length about the G-G because it’s an interesting topic, but I’ll spare you.)

The National Art Gallery was also overwhelming in its awesomeness. I shelled out the extra cash to see the special Renaissance exhibit, and it was well worth it. My whole day was spent there, and I only got to see the Canadian and Contemporary art exhibits.

Since there’s an Ikea in Ottawa, and since Julie and I are physically unable to resist the siren’s call of cheap pre-fab Swedish furniture, and since I have a car and Julie doesn’t, that’s what we did last night. Two plants and several pots, an area rug, CD holders, and a cutting board later, I managed to drag Julie and Randal out (I don’t remember what they got, but there were two huge plants also.) The three of us were too tired to go out for a late dinner, so we made do with grilled cheese, chicken nuggets, and three-shot martinis. I know - life’s so hard.

Sadly, the fun had to end and I came home this morning. Happily, I didn’t repeat the tea mistake again, and made it home on good terms with my bladder.

(There were going to be pictures, but now there aren’t - Blogger is awful pokey tonight. Given that I still haven’t posted the pictures from my North Bay-Timmins trip, this could take a while.)

To tide your over for the weekend… August 19, 2005

The good news is that I finally have my writing groove back. The bad news is that I’m going away for the weekend. So, you’ll want something to amuse yourselves while I’m away and having adventures to write about on Tuesday, right?

Okay, so here’s something. Earlier this week, I downloaded a bunch of songs that have been sitting in my iTunes shopping cart (sort of like a wish list) for a few weeks. I chose them at random, and once I had enough for a playlist and listened to it through, it turns out that I downloaded a pretty solid group of songs that fit nicely together.

Come Ova (Bumblebeez 81) - I found this song on someone else’s playlist, and loved it. It’s fat and chunky, and buzzes along nicely, sort of like a bumblebee. The only problem is that it’s too short - I want more!

You’re A Loose Cannon McArthur, But You Get The Job Done (Most Serene Republic) - For the song title alone, it was worth it. The band was a featured artist recently, and I have the featured song in my shopping cart, but I liked this one better at the moment. Floaty and airy, without being insubstantial.

Play That Funky Music (Wild Cherry) - A funk classic. I’ve been walking around the office, telling people to “play that funky music, white boy!” all week. No, the strange looks don’t bother me any more.

Egøverride (Bob Mould) - After finding those old Sugar tunes*, I was pleased to find his new stuff. I like this one - fuzzy and loud. Fun to rock out to.

Eyes, Ears, Mouth and Wait A Second (Demo) (Hot Hot Heat) - I’ve come late to the Hot Hot Heat party, but I don’t like all of their songs. These two songs I like quite a bit because they are pop-ish and perky without being overly sweet or vapid.

Wake Up Call (The Prodigy) - Nice to see they’re still around. Great song, but not a good song to drive to as it tends to make you want to drive faster. Not that I’ve tried, mind you.

So What’cha Want (Beastie Boys) - Classic. Reminds me of the good bits of high school and early university.

Crucial (k-os) - How is it that every song from “Joyful Rebellion” sounds so different, yet they are all so amazing? Jamaican flavoured.

Glass, Concrete and Stone (David Byrnes) - It sounds familiar, like I know I’ve heard it before but I can’t put my finger on where. Melancholy is a good word for the mood of the song.

Listen (Sexsmith & Kerr) - I know the Sexsmith is Ron Sexsmith, but I don’t know who the Kerr is. Doesn’t matter, as this is one sweet little tune. More upbeat than Sexsmith’s usual dreamy fare, and sounds like something Lennon & McCartney would have written.

Twin Cinemas (The New Pornographers) - It was this week’s free download, so I said, “what the heck!” I’m glad I did - it’s fun and jangly, and I’ve since discovered they are the artists behind a song I’ve heard several times on the CBC, but never knew the name of (Mass Romantic).

* Hey, isn’t that a Sloan song?