It is done. The document is done and gone and I am relieved.
Huge mad props to my home grrls - Ex-Future-Ex, Thistle & Hop, and Pixxie Dust - for putting up with my shizznit over the past few days, and not bitch-slapping me when I probably deserved it.
Peace out.
My mother always said, “If you can’t say anything nice, then don’t say anything at all.”* It’s not that I lack good things to say, I just don’t know what to say. I’m in the middle of updating a document, which I hate with the fiery heat of a million suns, and I’m trying to focus my creativity and positive energy on that while ignoring everything else.** The end is in sight, and I just need to write something to break the writer’s block I’m experiencing.
So, what normally would happen in the case of no new news is that a blogger might post a cute picture of puppies or kittens. Lacking any puppy and kitten cuteness around here, I give you the Herb Tarleks and their backup singers, The Aromatics.
The Aromatics consist of two eucalyptus plants rescued from the market, a lemon geranium, and a lavender plant that keeps making me think it’s dying, and then sprouts new growth to mock me.
In other news***, I have some time off next week, and am heading to Ottawa on the weekend to visit Julie and Robin (hopefully!). Julie and her boyfriend are putting me up (or putting up with me - something like that). Poor Randall. He knows not what kind of havoc Julie and I are capable of wreaking when we get together.
Mind you, it’s low key and understated havoc, the kind you would expect from two quiet, retiring types.
* However, I’ve always preferred Dorothy Parker’s “If you can’t say anything nice, come sit next to me.”
** Literally. There’s a basket of clean laundry in my bedroom that’s been there for, like, three weeks now. Mostly that’s actually just because I’m a lazy such-and-such.
*** Because I do have other news - I just haven’t told you about it!
Last night I was flipping channels, and stopped on the one showing Raise the Titanic. The premise of the movie is that a rare mineral which is only found in Russia was being shipped to New York on the Titanic when the ship sank. This rare mineral has unknown uses, but is believed that it can make the atomic bomb obsolete, which is reason enough to launch a full-scale project to (you guessed it) raise the Titanic.
I ended up watching this movie (or at least having it on in the background) for several reasons:
It wasn’t a bad was to kill time on a Saturday night. Last weekend the movie channel was showing Airport and Reality Bites over and over. Airport was surprisingly good, in that it was able to maintain several simultaneous stories at the same time, and tying them all together in a nice, neat 1970’s coloured package. Plus, George Kennedy rocks, in a cheesy sort of way.
Reality Bites sucked. I can’t believe she went back to Troy.
As found on the weather feed I subscribe to:
“Showery”? What the hell kind of description is that? Not that long ago, they used the phrase “Tons of Rain” to warn about heavy rainfall. Alas, I didn’t think to do a screen capture of it until too late.
I was going to post something pithy and witty this evening, but then I checked my feeds to see what was new.
Sadly, Dan lost his battle with cancer earlier today, and it doesn’t seem as important now.
R.I.P., Daniel Champion of Popping Culture. You are missed.
I’m sitting on the ground, my legs stretched out in front of me. The woman stops in front of me and says, “Nice socks!”
“Thanks!” I say.
“Are your socks pink?” she asks.
“Yes, yes they are. I have a dozen pairs of pink socks.”
“Awesome! Have you been to see the crocodile Lady yet?”
“No,” I sigh wistfully. “But I’ve always wanted a handbag or a purse made from their hide. I love alligators.”
No, I’m not on drugs, or having some kind of an acid-induced flashback. Sunday night, I woke up about every 40 minutes or so because I was having the most vivid dreams.
The Crocodile Lady is standing in the doorway, leaning against the doorpost. She’s wearing a ratty old dress and an apron over top of it. The apron is dingy and grease-stained, and the pocket on the left is torn. Her hair is in pink rollers, and she looks world-weary. The cigarette dangling from her lips is mostly ash, but it defies gravity by refusing to fall.
“Well?” she says.
I’m nervous. I didn’t think she’d actually be here. The guy standing to my left, just out of my line of sight, is the one who brought me here and actually wanted to come here. I’m not really sure what I’m doing here.
“Umm… can we… ummm… see the crocs?”
She sighs heavily. “No. I gave them away. You’ll have to come back next week.” She goes back into the rickety cabin and shuts the door.
I start to cry. “There, there,” says my companion. “We’ll get you a purse somewhere else.”
“I love alligators,” I sniff.
It’s not like I wasn’t exhausted or too tired to sleep. Every time I rolled back over, I’d drop off again. But it was that stupid wake-toss-turn-settle-sleep cycle that was driving me nuts.
I’m on a stretcher - it’s one of those two-poles-and-canvas affairs, like you see on old episodes of M*A*S*H. I’m tied down so I don’t fall off. I’m looking around, trying to figure out how I got here. “How did I get here?” I ask the paramedic. I don’t feel injured.
“See, your vehicle ran out of gas, and we have to take you away on a stretcher.”
“Oh. That makes sense.” It does - it makes perfect sense.
I ended up waking up around 5am, and going and watching TV for a while, until I had reset my brain. I fell asleep right away, but of course my alarm went off less than 20 minutes later.
Now I’m running in an uphill marathon, except that I’m not running. I’m passing out cups of cranberry juice to the runners. Except that no one wants cranberry juice. And it turns out that I have the wrong substance and I’m actually passing out cups of communion wine. My companion and the Crocodile Lady walk past. They ignore me.
“Hey - do you guys want some cranb– I mean, communion wine?”
They look at me as if I don’t know them. “Do you know who we are?” she asks.
“You make purses. With alligator skin.”
“That’s correct.” She turns, and walks a little faster to catch up to my companion, who hadn’t even stopped.
“I love crocodiles,” I whisper.
Damn you, Pamie, for having an exciting weekend, and making strangely prophetic posts. They were the last thing I read before I went to bed, and I somehow suspect that my subconscious was still trying to process them when I fell asleep.
But I think your new site design is very lovely.
I am “liberating” this meme from Juice, because I can’t think of a better way to celebrate the first birthday of this blog.*
10 Years Ago: Well, if it was a nice evening, probably out with my boyfriend at the time, doing his favourite dating activity - fishing off the pier in Port Dalhousie. Yeah, he was a winner - I can’t understand how I let him get away, either. It was also the last month before I started university, and I was just about sick of people asking me, “So, you’re taking Politics. What can you do with a degree in Politics?” Little did I know how often I would be asked that over the next four years.
5 Years Ago: It was the most exciting summer I’d ever had. First, I had my gall bladder out. Then I started working in the Department of Medical Informatics** at the Med School at Dal for my practicum. Then I went to Edmonton for the CLA conference. And then the Tall Ships came. But on August 8th, I think I was preparing for my family to visit. My roommate, who was from Australia, was headed back home, so I had the apartment to myself for a few weeks.
1 Year Ago: I was cleaning my bathroom, thinking about starting a new blog (because I was getting tired of the old one), when the name of it came to me like a bolt out of the blue. I ran to my computer, went to Blogger, and started this. (Oh, also - I had been living in Sudbury for a little over three months, and had been at my new job for the same amount of time. I lived in constant fear of messing up or being uncovered as a fraud and sent packing.)
Yesterday: Spent the day reading. And making orange sherbert (which, as it turns out, tastes like frozen yogurt for some reason.)
Tomorrow: Errr…. no clue. Working, reading, and surfing the internet, but not all at the same time.
5 Snacks I Enjoy: Wheat Thins, raspberries, bananas, chocolate chip cookies, and Arrowroot cookies.
5 Bands That I Know Most Of The Lyrics To Their Songs: Simon and Garfunkle, Big Sugar, The Trews, Areosmith, and Raffi.
5 Things I Would Do With $100,000,000: Buy houses and cars for my parents and sisters, buy a private jet for my grandfather so he can go Down East whenever he wants, spend a good chunk on the rest of my family, build a new library building in my hometown (both branches), and fund art programs for kids.
5 Locations I Would Like to Run Away To: Halifax, Jasper, Edmonton, Halifax, and New Orleans.
5 Bad Habits: Chewing my lip, picking at scabs, rolling my eyes, being sarcastic, and cussin’ and swearin’.
5 Things I Like Doing: Sleeping in, reading, watching TV, long walks on the beach, and thinking of ways things would be different if *I* were in charge.
(Am I almost done yet?)
5 Things I Would Never Wear: My prom dress (if I had to do it over again), large floral prints, stirrup pants, puffy sleeves, and thongs (the underwear).
5 TV Shows I Like: classic Star Trek, CSI, Queer as Folk, Firefly, and Mythbusters.
5 Movies I Like: Oh lordy, where do I start? Star Wars, Tank Girl, New Waterford Girl, Rushmore, and Yellow Submarine.
5 Biggest Joys of The Moment: Family, upcoming vacation, reading a good book, nice weather, and knowing there’s going to be something to laugh at every day.
5 Favourite Toys: Gretchen (my Mini iPod), my digital camera, my knitting needles, my retro blender, and the Herb Tarleks.
*In other words, I can’t think of any words of wisdom to impart.
**The study of studying how studies are conducted. Or something like that.
The pain is gone and I’m a much happier camper this morning. I’m not going to delete or edit last night’s post, even though I got a strongly worded email about my language from my grandfather this morning (hi Pepe!); rather, I will let it stand as a reminder of what happens when I don’t let go of something that bothers me. There’s a quote that goes:
“If you can’t be a good example, then you’ll just have to be a horrible warning.” (Catherine Aird)
So be it.
Actually, forget that. I’m just going to pretend I didn’t actually write it. Yes, that’s right - one of my other personalities took over and wrote that bit of bile. I can’t be held responsible for what she said. So there.*
Lest you think I spent the rest of the day consumed by my rage, I did do many other fun things, including going out for lunch (I was craving a hamburger in the worst way possible**).
For a few weeks now, I’ve been considering buying an ice cream maker. Part of the reason is this - last year, I was in Toronto, and went to a specialty ice cream store*** where they had ginger ice cream. I can’t begin to tell you how utterly amazing it was - one second, you mouth is on fire from the heat of the ginger, and the next it’s being soothed by the cool ice cream, and then it’s being burned again, then soothed, and so on and so forth. You get it.
Anyways. You can’t buy this stuff up here, so I wanted to make it myself. Thus, my simmering desire for an ice cream maker. So yesterday I broke down completely and got one - the bowl is in the freezer and I have a can of orange juice thawing to make orange sherbet. (I found a recipe for ginger ice cream on Epicurious, but since I don’t have ginger crystals and a thermometer, I guess I’ll have to wait.)
Also, I went and looked at desks because the table I’m using as a desk is too high to comfortably type or surf for long periods of time, and it’s too low to attach a keyboard tray. I think I found one that I love, and since I have a few days off in a few weeks, I can have it delivered then.
What else? Oh yes - no day spent in decadent indulgence would be complete without a stop at Chapters. But I was good and limited myself to the discount shelves, and came away with a bunch of cheap books. (I also browsed the expanded manga section - of course, of the two series I looked at (one I’ve glanced at a few times and one that caught my eye yesterday), neither had the first volume available. Go figure.)
This morning, I’m feeling much better. I was up early, went to the market and scored a box of their-weight-in-gold raspberries and a super-secret surprise**** for my sister in Guelph, since neither of us get to go Down East with my parents and other sister later this month. At the grocery store, I got some cranberry foccacia bread, ham, and havarti cheese for breakfast. I intend to spent the rest of the day in quiet contemplation, reading my book club book and the other two books I’d reserved at the library, which came in on Friday.
*Denial - not *just* a river in Egypt!
**Like, if I didn’t eat a non-fast-food hamburger sometime in the next hour, I was going to be very sad.
***Greg’s Ice Cream, for all you Torontonians or those of you heading there. It was on the corner of Bloor and something, but I think it was moving to the corner of Bloor and Spadina. Yes, actually - it did.
****Well, I guess it’s not going to be much of a surprise now, is it?
Okay, here’s the scene:
Zellers Grand Reopening down the street. It’s 10:30am, and the place is an absolute zoo. (I wanted to get there earlier; but then again, I want to be thinner and have a gorgeous boyfriend and that ain’t happening anytime soon, either.)
I’m in line - I have two balls of novelty yarn for a project. Behind me are a “mature” couple with a few things in their cart. In front of me was a woman with four pillows and an assortment of household goods in her cart. In front of her are a family who must be trying to get around some kind of limit on the number of boxes of tissues you can purchase because all five of them are carrying several boxes each. The cashier is a lovely, patient woman, - I have no quarrel with her because she was fabulous.
Grandma checks out her purchases. Older sister checks out her purchases, and they leave. Youngest sister goes to check out her purchases - she has school supplies in addition to boxes of tissues. The total is rung up - she comes up short on the cash, so she starts taking things out of the bag to return.
Here’s where the rage begins: Woman in front of me turns around and says to me and the couple behind me, in a loud voice, “I can’t believe she tried to buy all that stuff when she knew she didn’t have enough money. Where are her parents, and why did they take off? Why can’t her sisters just pool their money and loan her some? Now we’re stuck in line while she returns stuff and the cashier has to find her supervisor.” Couple behind me make statements of agreement in a slightly lower volume. I turn and face in a random direction to keep from shoving the balls of yarn up her nostrils.
Here’s what I should have said: “Gee, it’s not embarrassing enough to be caught short at the checkout, than have some stupid idiot in line behind you announce it to the general public and make demeaning comments about you and your family, so - fuck you, bitch.” (Okay, maybe not that last part.)
(The couple behind me kept muttering about it until I turned around and gave them The Look - anyone who has had the misfortune of pissing me off knows what The Look looks like, and knows I mean business when I use it.)
And then do you know what she had the nerve to do? Argue with the cashier about the stupid pillows. THEY WERE A LOUSY $3.00 - I paid $14.00 for similar pillows last month, you ninny! SHUT UP AND PAY THE NICE CASHIER BEFORE I LOSE IT COMPLETELY!
I made damn sure I was sweet as pie to that cashier.
(And a big fat “burn in HELL, bastard!” to the spammer who found my Gmail address. I hope something nasty and vague happens to you! )
(”Why,” you are asking yourselves, “is she a bitch tonight?” Well, that would be because the Nonspecific Stomach Aliment from Wednesday didn’t go away until Friday night, to be replaced by the Migrane That Drugs Aren’t Helping. If you read this post before I recover and delete it, then a hearty congrats to everyone who got to see me drop the f-bomb for the first time in print.)
I love music memes. I like to think that I’m not a music snob, that I’ll listen to anything, but the truth is that there are certain things I won’t listen to, like country music. That said, I do occasionally like something from the genre and I end up eating my words.
Also, I have a large, eclectic collection, and I like showing it off occasionally. Or all the time. Whatever.
“List ten songs that you are currently digging … it doesn’t matter what genre they are from, whether they have words, or even if they’re no good, but they must be songs you’re really enjoying right now. Post these instructions, the artists, and the ten songs in your blog. Then tag five other people to see what they’re listening to.”
Just ten? There are at least fifty or so that currently get high priority on all of my playlists. So how am I supposed to limit it to just ten? Well, I’ll do my best.
1. “Danny Boy” - Rufus Wainwright
Best lyric: “And a ship with eight sails could come ’round the bend / Or a herd of bulls charging stoplights red.” This song is almost the same length as my drive to work, so I like listening to it in the morning to psych myself up. Cute and perky.
2. “California” - Rufus Wainwright
Best lyric: “Ain’t it a shame that all the world don’t got keys to their own ignition.” Snarky and slightly sarcastic.
3. “Memphis Skyline” - Rufus Wainwright (last Rufus song - I swear!)
Best lyric: ” So kiss me, my darling stay with me till morning / Turn back and you will stay / Under the Memphis Skyline.” An ode to Jeff Buckley, who performed the first notable cover of Cohen’s “Hallelujah.” Gives me goosebumps every time.
4. “Oh Alberta” - Elliot Brood
Best lyric: “North Dakota, North Dakota, you don’t belong in this here song / Where did we go wrong?” Gotta love a song about the Canadian provinces that includes a note of surprise and warning to North Dakota.
5. “Fly the Orient” - Tricky Woo
Best lyric: “I’m not a man, I’m a coastline.” Indeed - how so? Short and loud, and I wish it were longer.
6. “Take Your Mama” - Scissor Sisters
Best lyric: “You can stay out late ’cause baby, you’re a full-grown man.” I didn’t like the song the first few times I heard it, and the video is just weirdness. But then I embraced the weirdness, and now come to think of these guys as the bastard offspring of The B-52’s, The Village People, and Eurasure.
7. “That’s a Good Idea” - Sugar
Best lyric: “I want to feel you in the water with your hands on my head.” There’s a story behind this song - I was in high school when it came out, and loved it immediately. After a few years, I forgot the name of the song and the name of the band who sang it, and it was lost in the dark, dim recesses of my mind. A few years ago, I came across a mixed tape I’d made around that time with the song on it, so I had the song stuck in my head again but still couldn’t remember the name of the band. Then I recently read an interview with Bob Mould, and the light bulb went off. A-ha! Except… iTunes didn’t have the song in its collection. Until I checked last week.
8. “Underwhelmed” - Sloan
Best lyric: it’s a toss-up between “She told me to read between the lines and tell her exactly what I got out of it / I told her ‘affection’ has two f’s, especially when you’re dealing with me” and “She was underwhelmed if that’s a word / I know it’s not ’cause I looked it up / it’s one of those skills that I learned in my school.” It was a Napoleon Dynamite-esque song long, long before anyone had ever heard of him. The song rocks.
9. “Scent of a Robot” - Pete Miser
Best lyric: “I’m a robot, programmed not to know.” Originally saw this video on the Accordion Guy’s blog. It’s catchy and clever - what happens when a human realizes he’s actaully a robot?
10. “We Used to Be Friends” - The Dandy Warhols
Best lyric: “C’mon now honey, bring it on bring it on yeah!” It’s the song I’m going to sing at my elementary school reunion, if we ever have one.
Bonus Song (because it’s the weekend)
11. “E-yeah!” - K.I.A.
No lyrics - it’s a techno-clubby-trance thing. I think I got it on a whim and a recommendation from iTunes.
I can’t think of five people with blogs to tag, so I’m going to tag people who don’t have blogs - you can either email me your responses or post them in the comments:
Rachelle
Mom
Elaine
Kris (wait, you do have one - oops!)
Karen
