A bowl of cherries.....

Irony

2009-01-09T14:34:00.000-08:00

I haven't been here in a while and I am sure that you will find the reason quite ironic. I haven't written as all of my possible subjects are very personal to me and I have hesitated to write about them. The real irony lies in the fact that what I am about to disclose to my reader is very personal, but, at this time, this seems to be the best outlet for my confession.

I deal with depression and anxiety on a daily basis. Until my recent diagnosis last year, I dealt with my condition painfully and unsuccessfully. I have been on medication for the last year and it seems to work...but not so much in the last four months. I recently revisited a very dark place in my life and could not find my way out of it (the other irony is that I was drawn to this place by another voyeuristic website, and I am now talking about it on Blogger). I tried to reason with myself and just sleep as much as possible. I was only successful with the sleeping part.

I have now reached a place of moderate understanding and now find that my temporary neurotic thoughts have now been replaced by strong pangs of regret and sadness due to the very important people that I have disappointed and worried during this time. I have only one true Blogger Follower and I am hoping that she will read this and accept my sincerest apologies. I did not attend an important family event due to my irrational thoughts and fears. I am embarrassed that my absense was due to a preoccupation with thoughts of someone who has never deserved my attention or consideration.

For this I am truly sorry.

Reunion

2008-10-17T13:39:00.000-07:00

Yes, that's me, in the bottom centre of this photo. I was 21 years old and it was my first retail job!! I felt like I had finally made it. My sister and I had loved this clothing store as teenagers and, sadly enough, thought that the people who worked there were the coolest people on the planet (One exception is the Fall of '85 when we were asked to leave the store because the employees felt that we were loitering. We definitely were not loitering! We just couldn't make up our minds about what shaker knit sweater and leopard print loafers to buy with our $400.00 in hard-earned, "back-to-school-shopping-harvest-money").

Well, it only took a month of employment for me to realize that this was not the coolest job in the world. Firstly, the store was located near the food court in the mall. All day I would smell fried onions and stale coffee and watch people eat while I didn't even have enough money to buy a plain pita because I had spent it all on clothes that I just felt I had to have!! (But, it was the only time in my adult life in which I only weighed 118 pounds. I thought that I looked hot. In retrospect, I guess I was). Secondly, part of our earnings were commission based, with sales targets and all of that fun stuff. It was becoming a challenge to tell people that their outfit looked great on them when it was 2 sizes too small. I was also the witness to boyfriends excitedly peering over the dressing room door as their size 0 girlfriends disrobed. I was envious as I would hear the girls' sly chuckles. If that had been me in the dressing room, all that anyone would have heard were mortified shrieks. Another drawback to my position was accepting returns from customers. As long as the return was accompanied by a receipt, we would take it back. I swear, some of the items reaked of perfume and were still warm. I was also there for the bodysuit fad. Every night at closing, my manager would have to remind me to do up the snaps on the gussets when we were tidying the store. That task repulsed me so much that I began to trade off jobs with my fellow co-workers. I would mop floors, Windex mirrors, take out the garbage, whatever they needed me to do in order to avoid that wretched chore!

I was there for four years. In that time, employees came and went and I found myself working with different teams over the years. This month I was invited to a staff reunion. Some of us are married, while some of us are living in apartments with our cats (okay, I can only speak for myself). Our lives have changed, but I am so excited that this event will bring us all together. We haven't seen each other in 14 years! I have already chosen my outfit (I will not be wearing a stitch of clothing from that store. After I lost my staff discount, I stopped shopping there)and booked my train ticket. I am sure that I will have lots of stories for you. It should be a great time, as long as there aren't any warm bodysuits in the mix.

What next?

2008-10-16T13:09:00.000-07:00

Wow! This is strange. I feel like I have just walked into an old apartment of mine and someone else has been living here. I haven't been round these here parts in a year and a half! So much has changed. I feel the need to update all of my information, but I like to read the old stuff and see how I have grown. I'll leave it for now and fill you in on all of the changes in my next entry.

For now I am just going to go through these boxes of knick knacks, take down some old prints and put up some new art. Thanks Sista, for giving me the directions back to this old place. Also, I would like to thank some of my sista's blog readers for encouraging me to attend this homecoming. It smells a bit like stale cat pee and neglected laundry, but I'll just open a few windows and spray some Febreeze. I think I might like it here after all.

I Look Smart!

2007-05-08T18:09:00.000-07:00

I posted this photo on my blog once before. A few people have commented that I look a bit "special" in this picture (that is me on the right). I will have you know that today a complete stranger told me that I look smart! Yes. Here is the story...I was walking down the street and a man was walking up to his vehicle. He resembled the stereotypical "beach" kind of guy, complete with tan, tank top and tribal tattoos. I was dressed in my business attire. The young man looked me up and down and commented "My, don't you look smart today!" The first thought that came to my mind was "Well, not really. I am of average intelligence", but instead I said "Thank you". He then said "How are you today?" and I replied "Fine, and you?" He responded with, "I am well, thank you". He got into his vehicle and drove away, but he continued to look back at me. This encounter did not make me uncomfortable as he was polite enough.

As I continued on my journey, a sports car sped past me. The passenger poked his head out of the window and exclaimed "I love you!" I was perplexed. How could he love me when he doesn't even know me? All that I can conclude is that everyone has a bit of the Spring Fever. I have also come to the realization that men like to see a woman in secretary attire. I never receive that much attention when I am wearing my hooker clothes.

My final stop was at the variety store to purchase microwave popcorn and diet pop. I rarely purchase lottery tickets but I decided to buy one. The Asian man behind the counter looked at my heavy load of groceries and said "I wish you good luck. You win the lottery and you never have to walk again. And every generation after you will have car too!" I thanked him and left the store, walking a little prouder and feeling a bit luckier.

Every Day Is Like Sunday

2007-05-06T20:47:00.000-07:00

Well, not every day is like Sunday and I'm glad, because Sundays tend to give me the blues. It has been this way for me as long as I can remember. When I was in gradeschool, I would be blue because the weekend was over and I had to go to school the next day. When I entered the work force, Sundays made me anxious because I had to return to work the following day. I usually enjoy myself during the day on a Sunday, but in the back of my mind I dread the quiet of my apartment in the evening and the ritual of picking out my outfit for Monday. Don't get me wrong, I like my job (and there was a time that I had to work on the weekend) but to me, the weekend is a mini-vacation and it is always difficult to return to the work routine after a vacation. I never go to bed early enough on a Sunday night because I want the weekend to last as long as possible (I guess that is why I am blogging at midnight). My weekends are usually quite full socially, so Sunday evenings can be a bit lonely for me as I return to my apartment and tend to my domestic tasks. Luckily the cats follow me from room to room and keep me company.

Maybe the "blues" really stands for:

Being a
Little
Unhappy
Every
Sunday

I have met many people that feel the same way about this day. On the website www.postsecret.com, the postcards are updated every Sunday. I believe that they post on this day because many people feel lonely on Sundays and the postcards reassure the readers that they are not alone in their fear or anxiety.

I compare how Sundays make me feel to how my mom once described the feeling of an empty house. My mom once said that when the whole family comes to visit, it is always difficult when everyone leaves at the same time and you are left alone in a quiet house. That is exactly what Sunday means to me.

To Serve And Protect

2007-05-03T18:01:00.000-07:00

I was going for a walk at lunch today when I saw two police officers on horseback (they weren't on the same horse as there were two horses. But it is funny to imagine a police officer on a horse with another police officer sitting behind him with his hands about his waist). They looked very regal and it made me feel a bit tingly (down there! I joke). I've never been one of those gals who goes all ga-ga over men in uniform. But I will admit that I have a fondness for firemen (but not those cheesy firemen calendars) ever since I saw a fireman put an oxygen mask on a cat after a fire at my old neighbour's house. That is actually the house that Sista Soldia used to live in. The fireman also led my neighbour into the fire truck to sit with the cat because it was cold outside. Very sweet.

So, I was watching the police officers on horseback and I began to wonder...what is the purpose of this? This isn't the wild west where everyone rode horses. Can a horse chase a speeding car? If the horse were to chase someone on foot, could the perpetrator distract the horse by throwing a carrot on the ground? One thing is certain, those horses are very messy. They left a nice steaming pile of stuff at the stop light and when I returned to the office, I had that smell in my nose for the next hour.

Rock Star Fantasies

2007-05-01T18:07:00.000-07:00

Yes, I admit it. I have rock star fantasies. Not fantasies about rock stars (I am still traumatized by that Hawksley Workman nightmare), but fantasies in which I am a rock star. Well, not really a star. I aim a little lower than that. It goes like this: when I hear a great song with great vocals (it can be sung by a male or female) I imagine that I am singing the song. But in the fantasy, I am in a talent show at my workplace (I know, if you are gonna dream, dream big!) I also imagine what outfit I would be wearing and how my hair would be styled. If the song is a duet, I imagine that Apples is singing with me. She would be the lead vocal and I would be the harmony, of course. In the fantasy, I am not discovered by a record producer. I would have my 15 seconds of fame, the admiration of my coworkers and then return to my simple life of Liquidation Store shopping and $4 tea at Starbucks (maybe I would win a free buffet for two...that would be cool). I refer to this daydream as a "fantasy" because in real life, I could never sing in front of an audience. My voice would quiver and I would have flashbacks of me singing "Puttin' On The Ritz" for a community theatre audition at the age of 15. Not good. But if Apples was in the talent show, she would end up touring with Feist, or acquire the role of Angelina Jolie's body double in her next film. Maybe I could be Apples' personal assistant but I am quite certain that she would never put me in charge of choosing her wardrobe.

So, there you have it, my rock star fantasy. The rock star in the picture is Ruby from the Scottish band Babygod. You can check out their video on www.bionicbuddha.com. It's called "One For The Boys". You'll find it under "Television" and "V Sides" on the main page (I think Apples would like it).

Strong Enough For A Woman, But Made For A Man

2007-04-29T17:28:00.000-07:00

Well, I am back. Thank you everyone for your kind words. I guess that if I write three blogs in a row and no one comments on them, I get a bit discouraged and begin to wonder if anyone is actually reading them. It is nice to know that people are reading, even if I am related to all of my readers. You can read my blog while you are waiting for your friends to respond to you on Facebook;) So here goes. Bear with me, because I'm a bit rusty...

I spent some time at Ivan's on the weekend and I forgot to bring my deodorant. So, I used Ivan's deodorant (maybe I should have asked him first, but I was sure that he wouldn't mind). Today I keep catching whiffs of it and I am constantly reminded of him. It's nice, actually. Now, I don't think that I will go out and buy this brand of deodorant for that sole purpose. But I do recommend that ladies occasionally wear their man's deodorant if they happen to be missing their fella. As long as you are not walking around smelling like a pine tree (Ivan's deodorant has a subtle, powdery scent) I don't see anything wrong with it. Perhaps the aluminum content may be higher in men's deodorant, or it may contain pheromones that make you more aggressive, but the occasional swipe along the pit is all that you need to bring the romance back.

I think that I will go make myself a candlelit dinner, now...

The Horror Of Dora

2007-04-18T18:18:00.000-07:00

I recently noticed that one of my coworkers has a picture on her desk of her daughter with a huge, foam Dora monster! Upon closer inspection I realized that it was an adult in a Dora costume, but that creature scared the hell out of me! Its ankles were as big as my waist! My coworker explained to me that she brought her daughter to a "Meet Dora" party. I asked her if any of the children at the party were frightened by "Dora" and she said that a few of them were. Now, what is the point in that? You bring your child to meet their favourite animated character and they end up having nightmares about it until they are fifteen? Why did they make Dora into a giant? Isn't she suppose to be a little girl?

All I know is, I will never look at Dora the same way again. I didn't ask my coworker if Dora's monkey named Boots was at the party. If he was, they probably couldn't fit him in the building because they fashioned him after King Kong...as if the children weren't already frightened enough.

I Thought That Fish Sauce Was Suppose To Be Good For You

2007-04-17T18:56:00.000-07:00

Ivan makes a delicious Thai rice dish which includes chilies and fish sauce. The fish sauce can be purchased at Liquidation World for only 89 cents! Last night, I decided to make Rice-A-Roni and throw some fish sauce in with it. It had a strange smell, but it was quite delicious. Well, within an hour I was also quite ill. I told Ivan about my reaction to the fish sauce and he said that you need to use the chili sauce to offset the flavour.

I hate to waste food so I decided to bring the rest of the rice to work for lunch. (What a great idea!) When I heated it up in the microwave, my coworkers commented on its delicious aroma. I replied "Yah, we'll see how it goes down today. It made me pretty sick last night". Sure enough, within ten minutes I had horrible stomach pains. I still had twenty minutes left of my lunch hour so I decided to lay down in the sick room. It is a fairly new addition to the office and I think that I was the first person to use it. I would normally be quite hesitant about putting my head on a "community pillow" but at this point, I really didn't care. I laid there for about ten minutes and began to feel better. But it was difficult to relax because people would walk by the door (which is usually left open) and remark "Oh, the door is closed. Someone must be in there". There isn't a lock on the door and I kept expecting the door to open and I would be found curled up in the fetal position. But my rest was uninterrupted and I felt much better. I returned to my desk, only to be ill ten minutes later.

There are a few morals to this story:
1). Do not stray from the Rice-A-Roni preparation directions. It is the "San Francisco Treat" for a reason!

2). If your dinner makes you ill, chances are that the leftovers will as well.

3). Sometimes you can find great deals at Liquidation World. Food stuffs that do not have expiry dates are not always great deals.

4). Rice-A-Roni is cheap! You are not being wasteful if you only eat half of the box.

Happy Birthday Flower Child!

2007-04-16T19:27:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow is Flower Child's birthday but I wanted to write this post now as I know that she gets up really early and I wanted this greeting to be there for her to read as she starts her day!

Happy birthday and I hope that you have a great day, Flower Child! I also hope that the weather gets better soon so that you can start your gardening and make beautiful things happen.

I love you,

Cherry

Cool For Cats

2007-04-16T18:40:00.000-07:00

There is another house that I pass on my way to work every morning that peaks my curiosity. There are always three cats hanging out on the step, but it is not always the same three cats. I am guessing that there are about nine cats that live in this house, but there are only three outside at the same time. I am thinking that the owner needs to have three cats out at all times so that she doesn't get overwhelmed. They are beautiful cats that are obviously well cared for. On the step there is a cardboard box and a cat carrier. Today, one cat was in the cat carrier, one was in the box and one was on top of the box. The cat that was on top of the box was huge, therefore the box was beginning to buckle under his weight. But the cat in the box didn't mind, even though the roof was sagging in over his head.

The notion of the cat owner having to let three cats out at a time reminds me of the days in which I would try to hide the fact that I had three cats (after all, three cats almost make a single gal a Cat lady). I once had a very nosy neighbour who would complain to the landlord about every little thing. I was certain that if she knew that I had three cats, she would tell the landlord and I would be forced to get rid of one. Luckily Bernie and Sista Soldia are both black, so I would only let one of them out at a time (Gilbert is a tabby). The only difference is, Bernie has long hair and Sista has short hair. My neighbour didn't seem to catch on. But, you should have seen me panic if they both ran out at the same time! One day my landlord came to the apartment to fix something. I thought that I would be safe as Bernie is very shy and usually hides when she hears a strange voice. On that particular day, Bernie was feeling friendly. Gilbert and Sista were watching my landlord work and I was talking to him, when suddenly Bernie entered the room. I thought that I was going to barf! The landlord didn't say anything about it. He finished his work, packed up his tools and walked to the door. But before he left, he turned to me and said "Two cats are fine, but three are not. You will have to bring one to the pound". I really loved that apartment (aside from the nosey neighbour), but I suddenly became very brave and said "I guess that I will have to give you my notice then". (I thought that I was going to barf again). The landlord smiled and quietly said "No, it's okay. But just don't tell the neighbour that you have three cats. She always needs something to complain about". This is a true story (in case you were wondering, Apples).

And I will close this post with today's funny cat tale (get it? Tale? Tail? Sorry, I'm being really geeky in this post). This morning I was on the phone with my sister. I was sitting on the bed when I looked at the doorway and saw Bernie chase Gilbert down the hall. A few seconds passed by and then I saw Sista Soldia run past the doorway after them. It was funny because it was like a delayed reaction and she was looking at me while she was running. Maybe you had to be there but it made me laugh because it was like something that you would see in a cartoon. And the way that my mind works, in those few seconds I even created a dialogue for my cats. Here it is:

Bernie: I'm gonna git you sucka!

Gilbert: Catch me if you can, Miss Geriatric.

Sista Soldia: Whuh happened?

Since I was talking to my sister on the phone when this occurred, I told her about it. She suggested that I just call in sick from work and stay home and watch the cats all day. Nah...I'd rather save that for the weekend.

Mornin' Sunshine!

2007-04-14T17:14:00.000-07:00

I am certain that people who walk everywhere have the opportunity to see things that one would never see in a car. I would rather not see some of the things that I see on the way to work. Here is a story of one of those sights.

Yesterday morning I was walking to work. Two houses before the creepy house that I mentioned in a previous blog, there is a house that has a cute golden lab. The dog is quite advanced in years, as is apparent by his nimble gait and the white fur on his face. On this particular morning, the dog was outside walking around the yard. As I said "Good morning" to the dog, I could see that someone was looking out the window. The man was about the same age as the man in this picture, but he was wearing "tightie whities" instead of shorts. Unlike the man in the picture, he was not wearing a "wife beater" tank top, but was wearing a white t-shirt that was tucked into his briefs. He stood in the window long enough for me to notice this, but then he had the decency to step in front of his patio door which luckily had frosted glass. Yes, I could still see his silhouette and yes it was a troubling way to start the day...But I will not change my route to work and I will still say "Good morning" to the sweet canine. Maybe I will leave a gift bag on the back step that will contain a pair of boxers, or maybe even a housecoat. What should I write on the gift tag?

When Spit Gets In Your Eye

2007-04-12T19:21:00.000-07:00

Okay, I'm sure that I am not the only person that has had this happen to them. You are having a conversation with someone and they say a word with a "P" or an "S" in it and, in slow motion, spit flies from their mouth into your eye! What do you do? I ask this question because this happened to me at work yesterday. When the spit flew into my eye I pretended that it didn't happen, although I couldn't help but blink quickly. Then, I couldn't wait for the conversation to end, so that I could give myself an eye wash. As the person spoke, I looked at their discoloured teeth, smelt the stench of stale coffee on their breath and felt my eye begin to burn. I tried to make myself feel better about it. If someone kisses you on the cheek, sometimes they leave a trace of saliva. That won't hurt you, right? So the conversation ended and I tried not to think about my eye. I went back to my desk and continued to work. But, in true Cherry-style (I don't usually refer to myself in the third person, honestly) I couldn't stop thinking about it. Twenty minutes had passed since the initial contact and any viruses were now deep within my retina, but I went to the washroom and gave myself an eye wash anyways.

What's even worse is when someone is eating and talking and they spit in your eye or on your face. It is very difficult to be nonchalant about having a piece of soggy bread on your cheek. That happened to me once at a gathering when a distant relative of mine was talking to me. My sister and her husband are convinced that she's a vampire, so they assured me that that was just her way of casting a spell to ensure that I live forever. So, sometimes when people spit food in your face it means that they really like you! (especially if they are eating cake).

Skid Of My Dreams

2007-04-10T16:28:00.000-07:00

I've been having strange dreams lately and when I wake up in the morning, I try to analyse the dream and remember the thoughts that I had during the previous day which may have inspired the dream. Last night was no exception. I dreamt that my sister and I were both infatuated with the same man. He looked a bit like the gentleman in this picture but he also had a mustache and was a professional football player. I remember at one point in the dream, he complained that he only earned $500,000.00 a year. My sister and I planned a "skid" evening out with the man, which would involve a few pitchers of beer and maybe a little karaoke. My sister was dressed in her finest yoga attire. I don't remember what I was wearing but I do remember that our love interest was wearing a jean shirt that was neatly tucked into his very pale blue jeans. After the first round of drinks I realized that I had a boyfriend named Ivan, so I decided to encourage the football player to pay more attention to my sister. In my dream, my sister had just given birth the week before, so the liquor hit her hard. I found her by the d.j. booth. She had taken off her yoga pants only to reveal that she was wearing polar fleece jogging pants underneath. Huh? I know, it doesn't make any sense. She was passed out, so I went to find her Don Juan so that he could take her home. I found him in some sort of living room, sitting on the floor in front of a coffee table. He was snorting marijuana and that is when I decided to wake up.

So, what would inspire this dysfunctional dream you may ask? I am quite certain that it had to do with a man that I saw while I was walking to work yesterday morning. On my way to work I always pass by a creepy house. Yesterday morning when I walked by the house, a man opened the door, stepped outside and said "hello" to me. There he was, in the freezing cold wearing a pair of shorts and a tank top. Yes, he was a wicked skid, but he had a distinguished voice and a kind face. He was probably an ex-con, but I said "hello", just to be polite. That is all that I can think of that may have prompted this dream. By the way, my sister is quite the fashionista and would never wear her yoga apparel outside of the gym. Also, we do not think of pitchers of beer and karaoke as a "good time" (okay, I like karaoke, but I can never find anyone to go with me).

In case you were wondering, I found the pic of this handsome fellow on a website that sells mullet wigs. It's pretty funny because they have different names for the wigs, such as "The Landscaper". They could also name them "The Niagara Fallser" or "The Wellander" as le mullet appears to be the hairstyle of choice in these here parts.

A Mistake Isn't Always A Bad Thing

2007-04-09T20:35:00.000-07:00

I had a pretty stressful morning. I was two hours late for work due to some "maintenance problems" in my apartment. I am proud to say that I handled the situation myself, which is fortunate as my landlord could not be reached (probably because of the holiday). I stopped at the deli before I went to the office to get a tea and a piece of chocolate chip banana loaf. This banana loaf is amazing, even though it tastes a bit like sausage and all of the other grease that is being fried at the deli. The Eastern European woman behind the counter almost gave me carrot cake instead of banana loaf, but that's okay. I got into the office and found a time sensitive project waiting for me. I settled into my desk and went to take a sip of my tea when I noticed the tag from the teabag dangling outside of the Styrofoam cup (I had also asked for the bag out). When I read the label it said "Sleepytime tea". What the hell? Who drinks Sleepytime tea when it isn't even noon? I imagined myself face down on my desk with a stream of drool pooling from my mouth within the next hour. But I took a sip of the tea anyways. To my delight, it was the perfect combination of mint, chamomile and honey.

A serene calm came over me and I began to organize everything that I needed in order to tackle the project. I was able to joke with my coworkers about my morning. Everything happened in slow motion, with me raising my cup of Sleepytime tea, my coworkers leaning back in their chairs laughing, and a misty fog all around us, sort of like what you would see in a poorly made Canadian film.

Okay, it wasn't quite like that, but I did complete the project and stayed until 7:15pm in order to put in a full eight hours. Now I strongly recommend Sleepytime tea if you ever find yourself in a stressful situation. But, if you are ever at the deli and Helga waits on you, pay close attention. You might end up with head cheese when what you really wanted was mortadella.

Some Pig

2007-04-08T19:04:00.000-07:00

I must admit that I have never read the book "Charlotte's Web" or watched the animated film because I knew that an animal would die. Until today, I did not know if the spider died, or the pig, or both. All that I knew was that it was sure to make me cry. Today I watched the latest version of the story with a three year old and a five year old and I was the only one that cried! How embarrassing.

The tears started rolling right at the beginning of the movie (the same thing happened to my sister and I when we saw "E.T." as kids). "Charlotte's Web" is the moving tale of a young girl that talks her father out of killing the runt of the litter. He is then saved from the smokehouse by a spider who writes wonderful things about him in her web for all to see. They are beautiful words such as "Some Pig", "Radiant" and "Humble". Charlotte the spider does die, but her eggs hatch and some of the baby spiders remain in the barn to keep Wilbur company. Wilbur never meets the fate of becoming the Christmas ham thanks to the will of a young girl and a spider who befriends him.

Today was Easter, and although I did not have the opportunity to spend it with my own family, I spent it with a caring family who made me feel very welcome. I will never forget the moment in the film during which I was sobbing hysterically and the five year old looked up at me and said "Why are you crying?" As makeup ran down my face and snot ran out of my nose, I tried to compose myself while I stuttered "Be-e-cause its s-a-a-d". But it's okay. The film had a happy ending, we played with some toys and then we had an excellent meal (I was very relieved that they didn't serve ham).

Ode To A Squirrel

2007-04-03T20:50:00.000-07:00

Tonight I was putting the apartment to bed, which involves snuffing out the candles and checking them a few times to ensure that they are out, as well as the stove, etc. when I happened to look out my front window and notice something on the road. The cats were watching it too. I focused and it appeared to be a squirrel, laying on its back. It must have been hit by a car. But then I saw it move. It was trying to get up! The poor creature flapped it's tail, kicked its legs and tried to roll over. It was very painful to watch. I was in panic-mode and began to pace back and forth. There was nothing I could do. It would probably die shortly, but watching it suffer was excruciating. I thought about grabbing my hammer and putting it out of its misery. But I couldn't do that. I thought about going to bed and trying not to think about it. I couldn't do that either. I knew that watching this animal breathe its last breath would be an image that I would probably never get out of my head, but I decided to go outside anyways. The creature had stopped moving, so perhaps it was already dead. The cats wanted to join me, but I advised them against it, as an injured animal may attack, and this was something that I had to do alone.

I wrapped my coat around myself and took a deep breath. As I approached the squirrel I could see varying shades of black, red and white. Within two feet I realized that it was a crumpled piece of newspaper! The wind had pushed it along the street and had played with it for a while...in the same way that my mind had played a trick on me!

This little story confirms that what you think you see isn't always what is happening in reality. When I returned to my apartment, I swear that I could hear the cats chuckle softly. They had known all along that it was only a piece of newspaper because they have perfect vision. Heck, they can even see in the dark!

You know, I didn't even pick up that litter from the street. I was just so relieved that it wasn't roadkill that I didn't even think about the aesthetics of my neighbourhood. In a strange way, I think that it would have grossed me out to touch it as I had spent the previous five minutes believing it was a dead animal. Does that make any sense? Oh well, I'll sleep peacefully tonight knowing that my neighbourhood squirrels are safe. Now I'll just go and check those candles one more time...

For The Love Of The Theatre, Dahling...

2007-04-02T21:18:00.000-07:00

Because I am a philanthropist, supporter of the arts and frankly, in need of a creative outlet, I have decided to volunteer at the local theatre. I met with the President of the theatre this evening and expected to be granted the title of ticket-tearer, or coffee pourer. So you can imagine my surprise when I was asked to be the A.S.M. (no, that doesn't stand for Altruistic Saintlike Martyr, but it is the initials for Assistant Stage Manager) in their next production!

I am excited, but those of you who know me well can probably imagine some of the aspects of this title that may concern me. Firstly, I will have to tell people what to do. This will lead to me worrying that people are mad at me. Also, I will have to wear a headset. This involves having to pay attention to a few things at once. I imagine that I will be over stimulated and repeat "OH NO" a few times to myself and ultimately end up rocking back and forth with my head in my hands. Yah, I don't think that these theatre people know what they have gotten themselves into.

The director actually asked me if I expect to be "asked out on some date" that may prevent me from committing to this project. Yah, like I'm sixteen or something (maybe he thought I was that young. Well, I did just colour my hair. My, how flattering). But then again, if Ivan scored tickets to an awesome concert, or if a new liquidation store was opening up, or a kick-ass auction, I might be a no-show to this theatre gig.

No, I will do this. This community needs me. But first, I have to pay the annual $12 theatre membership fee. It also covers the insurance if I get hurt while volunteering. Huh? So I can't go on dates and I might actually break a leg?

Man, I must really love the theatre...

2007-04-01T10:52:00.000-07:00

Today is a rainy day, but that's a-right, because it is a good day to be cozy and stay inside. Right now I am sipping apricot tea, listening to Tchaikovsky's "Pathetique" (judging by the title, I thought that it would be a melancholy score, but it is actually quite uplifting) and watching Gilbert sleep on the chair beside me, while Sista Soldia and Bernie spoon on the chair in the living room.

Yesterday was a day spent in pursuit of bargains. I was quite successful. My Tchaikovsky album was only 30 cents. At the same thrift store I found an original 1982 John Branderhorst wood carving of a buffalo for a mere dollar. I don't know who John B. is (perhaps this was his highschool wood shop project), but it is a cute wall hanging and it fits in well with the "cottage theme" of my front sitting room. At Liquidation World, I scored a teal knitted hoodie for $2.00 and a pair of pants for $3.00 (the box of apricot tea was only 88 cents). At Value Village I found a pair of "never-worn" beige dress shoes for $5.00 and a beautiful French Connection blouse for $4.00. I then went home and coloured my hair with L'Oreal's Preference in Ultra-Violet Dark Red. I recommend this brand for those with stubborn greys as it provides excellent coverage with little mess. So, my new hairstyle was only $12.99. I have asked Ivan to cut it for me, but he seems uncomfortable with that so I may have to splurge on a haircut. But I find that most hairdressers charge at least $40.00 for a hair cut! If I wasn't so paranoid about getting head lice, I would go to a Hairdressing school for an inexpensive cut. While on the topic of bargains, a great place to find deals is on www.kijiji.com. Sometimes people are giving items away because they don't want to move them ie. couches, tables etc. You can search for items in your area. Right now I have my eye on an antique school desk for 40 dollars!

Thank you to those who sent me their "My Heritage" Celebrity Look-Alike pics. Apples, you can have up to 10 matches, so I am sure that you resemble more celebrities than just Molly Ringwald. Oh, and Vicki Pollard, I hate to be a bi-atch, but you could really use a makeover and some medication for those cold sores! Have you been making out with Hawksley Workman?(to those of you who are not familiar with VP, she is a character on "Little Britain")

Okay, here is my rainy day schedule:
1). drink apricot tea
2). listen to Tchaikovsky for the 7th time (I'm really enjoying it. It's very soothing)
3). have a bath
4). wet siffer my floors
5). give myself a coconut milk facial (49 cents at Liquidation World)
6). satisfy my Perez Hilton craving. I still haven't been back to his website
7). have some "macaroni and cheese" lunchmeat in a pita. I haven't had it since I was a kid so I had to buy some. It's gooood!
8). turn my calendar page to "April" and finally switch all of my clocks to the proper time.

It is April Fool's day today and I wanted to write a fake post, but Apples hates the fake posts and it's all about Apples! Oh well, happy April Fool's day anyways!

My Resemblance To Jessica Simpson Is Uncanny!

2007-03-28T18:48:00.000-07:00

It really is a sign of these modern times when my family begins to call, not to ask why I haven't phoned, but rather, why I haven't blogged! Don't worry folks...when I haven't blogged it usually means that my life has been incredibly full!

Today I discovered www.myheritage.com. On this website, you can upload a picture of yourself and your image will be matched to the celebrities that you most resemble. The comparison to Jessica Simpson made me laugh. The only thing that Jessica and I have in common is that John Mayer denied being in a relationship with me at one time as well. I have to admit that I liked the Grace Kelly and Natalie Portman comparisons. Like, I wish! I was just relieved that I didn't rate a 90% resemblance to Ugly Betty. A couple of my friends have joked that I look a bit like her. Actually, maybe I should upload a picture of her and put it on the website and see if we resemble the same people. Then, by default, we would ultimately resemble each other!

While on the topic of celebrities, I have refrained from visiting Perez Hilton's website for the last five days! That gossip blog is a guilty pleasure of mine, but I have begun to realize that reading it (well, looking at the pictures) makes me feel a bit catty and trashy. My sister said that she hasn't been on the site lately and that she feels much "cleaner". Perez always uses colourful expressions to describe people and I find that I begin to analyse people's appearances or behaviours in the same way. For example, at times throughout the day I will think that someone is being a "F*@ktard" or that their outfit makes them look like they have "Cankles" or that their shoes are "Sh#teous". That's not nice! Plus, when people visit Perez's website, they are contributing to the success of the paparazzi. If the paparazzi are encouraged, they will just continue to interrupt the leisure and party time of those nice celebrities. Celebrities don't want to be in the spotlight...okay, I'm being sarcastic.

Make sure to check out www.myheritage.com and let me know who you resemble. Oh, and sorry for swearing on this post. Perez made me do it!

Feelin' The Love

2007-03-22T21:03:00.000-07:00

It was quite mild out tonight so I let the cats out to frolic in the back yard. They had been out for a couple of hours when I started to get things ready to take out to the garbage. I opened my back door to bring the garbage out and almost stepped on a dead mouse! When I first saw it, a few emotions came over me. First there was disgust, then sadness for the mouse and then a glimmer of pride that my wuss city cats still have their survival instincts. I also knew that they had left it there as a present for me, almost like a bouquet of roses. As I lifted it up with grocery bag and gloved hand, I couldn't help but let out squeals of horror. Gilbert looked at me as if to say "Whuh, you dun like it?" I couldn't help it. It is just something about the limpness of a dead mouse that gives me the heebie jeebies. So, now my bouquet of roses is at the curb, in the garbage can, ready for tomorrow morning.

Tonight, I will go to bed with a warm feeling that I am truly loved (while my dirty-ass killer cats sleep peacefully beside me). Ahhhhhh.

When you first look at this picture, you think "Isn't that sweet?". But upon further investigation, you see that the mouse is too large to be a mouse. It's more like an overgrown sewer rat! When I was looking for cat and mouse images, I kept coming across cheesy pictures of a cat with a computer mouse. That's, like, so 1994!

Breaking The Ritual

2007-03-21T14:51:00.000-07:00

There are a few rituals that I perform on a daily basis. You may call it O.C.D., but I like to call them rituals. I am a chronic hand washer. When I leave the house, I check all of the elements on the stove and also put my hand on the burners to make sure that they aren't warm (even though I barely use my stove). I also check the door about 5 times after I lock it. When I walk down the street and step on a stone, I check the bottom of my shoe to make sure that I haven't accidentally stepped on a syringe (I know, that's crazy, but I would want to know, wouldn't you?)

Today I was thinking about my rituals and I realized that there are at least two that I can cross off of my list. For example, I used to check my messages on my home phone while I was at work. I don't know who I was expecting to call me, but I have learned that only telemarketers call during the day. I was able to break myself of this ritual because I discovered that any important messages would still be waiting for me when I came home from work. Also, my family and friends have my work number if they need to reach me during the day. Another ritual that I have broken is "blog-checking" while at work. I used to check my blog about five times a day to see if I had any comments. I was able to stop this ritual by posting a picture of a crocheted penis on my blog. Now I am too afraid to look at my blog at work. I would be dismissed for looking at porn on the internet!

Sometimes I think about how much time I waste on my rituals. If I spent this time on creative ventures, I would probably have a room full of paintings, or a few children's books completed by now. If I logged all of my wasted time in a book, I would probably accumulate enough hours for a part-time job!

My thoughts develop in ritualistic patterns as well. I would like to rid myself of these thoughts, but I think that will only be possible with a partial lobotomy. I waste a lot of time worrying about trivial things. I'm trying to change these patterns and, besides a lobotomy (because I'm too vain to shave my head), I think that the only way to break them is to think about "checking messages" and "crocheted penises". For example, feeling the need to analyse things and worry is like checking your messages. If your concern is urgent or valid it deserves your attention. But trivial worries are like phone calls from telemarketers. If you don't answer the call, they won't leave a message. Also, always thinking about "the worst case scenario" is like looking at a picture of a crocheted penis at work. It is unnecessary and will only get you into trouble.

Phew! I feel a bit like Dr. Phil, but I just needed to get that off of my chest. Maybe some of my readers have rituals that they would like to break. This is a safe environment for sharing, so go ahead...Dr. Cherry is listening:)

What the ......?

2007-03-19T18:54:00.000-07:00

I have about 8 clocks in my house (that is if you include the double-faced clock that I have as well). Since the time change, I have only adjusted three of them (the ones that I rely on the most). These are my alarm clock, the clock on my microwave and the clock in the bathroom. Why haven't I changed the time on all of my clocks, you might ask? Well, that is a silly question to ask someone who takes a four hour nap in the middle of the afternoon. But I will change them all eventually, at least by the time the next time change rolls around. Anyways, tonight I feel like I gained an extra hour, because I kept looking at a clock that I hadn't changed and then I went and looked at the microwave and realized that it was really an hour earlier than I had thought! So, now I have time to blog...aren't you lucky?

In response to Apples' earlier comment, I do not drink and blog. I have only done it once and I hated myself in the morning. It was a stupid post entitled "Baby It's Warm Outside". I don't think that anyone even commented on it. But I do eat and blog. One of my favourite things to have while I am blogging is Mortadella in a whole wheat pita. I put the pita in the microwave for twenty seconds, add some spinach leaves, parsley, two slices of Mortadella and some Keene's hot mustard. Mortadella is my favourite lunch meat right now, even though I recently discovered that the white blobs in it aren't cheese, but are actually pork fat! The hot mustard makes my nose burn, but I really enjoy it. I like it so much that I could pull a George Costanza and eat it in bed, if you know what I'm sayin';)

I recently discovered that a friend of mine has a birthday this month. I think that he regretted bringing it up in conversation, because when I asked him the date he responded "March the 40th" and "October 2008". He's tooo funnay! Well, there are only twelve days left in March, so hopefully I haven't missed it (the sad part is, I had to go count the days on my calendar in order to figure out how many more days were left).

I will tell you one more funny thing before I bring this post to a close. Sometimes I think that my cats are playing tricks on me. For example, today I couldn't find Gilbert and Sista so I looked around my apartment and found them sitting in the front room. Gilbert was sitting on the back of the couch and Sista was sitting on the dresser. I went into the kitchen and checked on them again (only 2 minutes later) and this time, Sista was sitting on the back of the couch and Gilbert was sitting on the dresser, in the exact same poses! This isn't the first time that they have done this. They probably perform these little acts in order to bring some excitement into my day. That's cool, as long as I never catch them wearing bikinis and as long as I am never bored enough to sew them beach wear.

People Need Back Up

2007-03-18T17:38:00.000-07:00

Hello everyone. I haven't been home much in the last 4 days, so I apologize for the lack of blogging. The past few days have been very full and I have spent them with very interesting people. I have also watched a couple of movies with existential themes so I am feeling a bit philosophical. I had a 4 hour nap this afternoon and had some very intriguing dreams, which really made me think about life and relationships.

I often have dreams in which my family all live in the same house or neighbourhood. These dreams are always warm and comforting. When I wake up, I feel disjointed because I remember that my parents and my brother are two hours away and my sister lives in another city (only a half hour away, but I still only see her once a week). I envy people who have family close by. I truly believe that these people live fuller lives and are more at ease as they have that comfort zone and live their daily lives in the knowledge that someone is always there if they need them.

We also have our friends. One of my favorite lines in the movie "About A Boy" is when Marcus says "People need back up". As far as friendship goes, I have two friends that I trust with all of my heart. One of them is my sister and the other is a friend of mine that lives in Toronto. They are great listeners and always have words of encouragement for me. They help me to see the humourous side of every situation but are also brutally honest and aren't afraid to show me some "tough love" when I need it. They were both in my dream this afternoon and when I woke up, I realized how much I miss them. I spent some time with Ivan's friends this weekend and I really admire the strong bonds that he has in his life. When I am around them, I can see that his friends respect his opinions and really enjoy being with him. There is real love and admiration there and I think that is why Ivan is the centered and confident person that he is.

I have also recently spent time with people who have young children. Their lives are so much more complicated than mine but they persevere and contribute to the development and livelihood of these little people. It's amazing and I am in awe of those that play the roles of mother and father.

I also watched "Pretty In Pink" this weekend. The theme of existentialism wasn't so apparent in this film but it still had something to say. Today I found myself thinking about Duckie's character and his love for Andie. Although it had its creepy moments (he basically stalked her on his bicycle) his devotion to Andie was sincere and unshakable, until, of course, he met Kristy Swanson (or "The Duckette" as she is listed in the credits) at the prom.

This post has really been more stream of consciousness than blog, but I guess what I am really trying to say is that the people in our lives are important and help build our character. We need each other, whether it is to share a laugh or help us through a difficult time. I don't know if people are like me, but I believe that I don't say "I love you" as often as I should to the people closest to me. And when I do, I always say it quickly, like this "Love you!" But I really do have a lot of love in my heart and I mean those words.

And with that, I say goodnight and...I love you. XOXO

Rites Of Spring

2007-03-14T15:50:00.000-07:00

So, I haven't done anything creative this week (except write this blog) and I haven't been back to www.etsy.com because I'm not a pervert! But I am still feelin' that spring vibe. Today I wore a spring coat and I was able to walk on the sidewalks on my way to work because most of the snow has melted. But I had to be very careful as I walked due to the huge mounds of dog poo!

I'm not a scientist, but it appeared that they were all left by the same creature. And I'm not even sure if it was a dog, because it looked like it could have been from a horse. Every three feet there was a pile of dung. It did not appear that the animal was ill as the piles were solid. While I walked, I found myself analysing the situation. Were these piles always there, under the snow? Were they from a recent walk since the snow had melted? Was it an accumulation of different walks, under various layers of snow? And the most important question, why didn't the owner just stoop and scoop?

Then, I started thinking, maybe it wasn't left by a domestic animal at all. Maybe it was a bear that knows the rules of the road and chooses to stay on the sidewalk as a safety precaution. Or, perhaps it was a Sasquatch...I don't know, but I will be sure to keep an eye on this phenomenon. Maybe I will bring a baggie on my walk tomorrow and collect a sample to bring to Professor Brown for analysis (you know Professor Brown, from the show "Rewired" on www.bionicbuddha.com?) He's a pretty smart guy and I think he knows his dung!

Maybe I Won't Start Knitting

2007-03-12T21:54:00.000-07:00

Okay, sorry about the x-rated picture, but I checked out www.etsy.com and this was the first thing that I found! That website should have a warning or something...Jeepers!

Creative Energy

2007-03-12T21:15:00.000-07:00

So, I have been given an assignment. I need to do something creative by the end of the week. I was hoping to start it today, but it didn't happen. And now I feel like a bad ass, because instead of starting my project, I had a late dinner, washed dishes and talked on the phone all night. Even though I worked today, I feel guilty about relaxing tonight because I should have been using some creative energy.

I just don't know what to do. Should I draw something, paint something, or write something? I woke up feeling inspired. I left the house at 7:30am and I was enamoured with the pink sunrise along River Road. The birds were chirping loudly and energetically. It almost sounded like different radio stations playing at the same time, as the various species of birds sang their individual songs. It was my mom that pointed out to me that the birds start to sound different when spring approaches.

But then I got to work and crunched numbers all day thus losing that creative vibe. And now it is 12:30am and I am off to bed. Maybe my dreams will inspire me (or just frighten me like the "Hawksley Nightmare" did).

Perhaps I need to try something new, like knitting or Hungarian embroidery! My sister introduced me to a cool website: www.etsy.com. I haven't taken a good look at it yet, but she assures me that I will be inspired.

If anyone has any tips on how to get those creative juices flowing, I'd be open to suggestions. And remember, keep it clean because the Czar of the blog will delete any questionable comments. Heck, I might even delete this post (I've been known to do that, you know) because it sucks *#@ (as "Jewels of the Nile" would say).

Hawksley Herpman

2007-03-06T16:49:00.000-08:00

Well it looks like everyone loved my last post! Like, I have no comments! I guess that word got out that I have started policing my blog and deleting comments that might be a bit too colourful. Well, the communist regime has ended, and you may comment freely...Please comment...please?

So, I will tell you about a strange dream that I had last night. I dreamt that I went to a dark and dingy club to watch Hawksley Workman perform. I guess that his career was suffering as he was the opening act for some obscure band. When he finished his set, he went into the audience to watch the rest of the show. While the second act performed, Hawksley approached me. I could tell that he had been drinking as his eyes were glazed over and he was slurring his words. He asked me to kiss him and I remember thinking, "Wow! You're, like, Hawksley Workman and you want me to kiss you? Y-ah!" So, I did. It wasn't a very long kiss, but I did kiss him on the mouth. Then, the spotlight scanned the audience briefly and when it passed across Hawksley's face I noticed that he had these huge cold sores on his lips! He looked at me and his herpes-encrusted lips curled into a mischievous smile and his eyes were barely open as he drunkenly swayed back and forth. I remember thinking "Man, why did I have to kiss him? Like, he's only Hawksley Workman and I've never had a cold sore in my life!" And then my lips began to tingle.

When I woke up, I still thought that I had a cold sore, but then I realized that it was just a dream. I've gotten over it, but now Hawksley Workman grosses me out!

CAAAAKKKE!

2007-03-05T17:46:00.000-08:00

I love cake! I've just got to have it. At work we have had a birthday every week for the past three weeks. There has been cake once a week! It's been great. Today I was able to bring some cake home because someone was going to throw it out! Can you imagine that? A gorgeous Sobeys vanilla cream cake! Today I had a piece during the birthday song, another piece for an afternoon snack and I might have one more before I go to bed. That leaves one piece left for breakfast. Does it get any better than this?

I can't believe that Elaine on "Seinfeld" called in sick because there were too many birthday celebrations at her place of employment. And then, when she returned to work, someone had bought her a "Get Well Soon" cake. Man, if only that would happen at my job...I loved that episode, especially when she went through cake withdrawal and ended up eating Peterman's prized slice from a 1930's Royal Wedding. I'll never forget the line "That was a butter cream icing! The agony that you will be experiencing is punishment enough". I actually became quite ill from cake once. An old landlord offered me some carrot cake (my favourite kind) and I noticed that the carrot bits were green. I ate it anyways because I didn't want to be rude. Within a half hour of ingesting it, my stomach began to gurgle and...well...Carrot cake is still my favourite cake, but now I am very particular about who makes it and how fresh the vegetables are that go into it.

The only cakes that I don't like are Dairy Queen cakes. People don't understand this, but I really don't like them. I once worked in an office where that is all that they would serve at birthdays. They're really expensive too!

Today, when the birthday girl was serving the cake at work, she ended up with some icing on her pant leg. One of my witty coworkers said "So that's what they mean when they say that cake goes right to your thighs". Bud da da ching!!

Okay, enough cake talk. Now for a cake walk, right to the fridge for my third slice of the day!

Cheers!

Love Conquers All

2007-03-04T13:33:00.000-08:00

Well, I solved the mystery of "Jewels of the Nile". It is a friend that is just commenting on my blog for the first time. They were trying to be funny and did not realize that this blog is a forum for me to feel good about myself:) Now, if I could only figure out who "anonymous" is...

This weekend I watched the movie "You, Me and Dupree". When I saw the trailer, I thought that it would be a very immature film with lots of boobs and butts (there were some of those, but mens' butts too so that's okay), but it was a really sweet story about friendship and love.

In the movie, Molly and Carl are newlyweds who have opened their home to Dupree who is Carl's down-and-out friend. I don't want to give anything away (as I really think that people should watch this movie) but the story develops into a study on relationships. It is a story about forgiveness and acceptance. I enjoyed watching Dupree's character grow as he tries to better himself, follow a dream and "Live Strong".

I found myself laughing out loud during much of the film. One of my favourite scenes is one in which Carl suspects that Dupree is developing an interest in Molly. In the scene, Molly is reaching in the kitchen cupboard for the sugar and all that you can see is the back of Dupree's head as he coaches her to find it. Carl assumes that Dupree is admiring her buttocks, but in reality, Dupree's eyes are up at the top shelf where Molly is reaching. As Carl becomes more and more suspicious, it is easy to see how appearances can blur reality.

As I sit in front of my computer, in my quiet apartment on a Sunday afternoon, I almost wish that I had a "Dupree" around to plug my toilet, set fire to my curtains and watch Audrey Hepburn movies with. Oh well, maybe one of the cats will puke on the rug and there will be some excitement. Yeah!

Panic At The Laundromat

2007-03-03T13:46:00.000-08:00

So, I am writing another blog about animals. I hope that my faithful readers don't mind (especially "Jewels of the Nile". Nice comment, by the way and I think that I know who you are;)

As I mentioned in an older blog, the laundromat that I go to has tropical birds. The lovebirds have had a baby and it is very cute. Today the laundromat owner was opening the cage and the baby flew out. The small, feathery friend was frantically flying around the laundromat and kept banging into the mirrors on the walls. The parents were clinging to the bars of their cage and calling out to their child. It was very traumatic. I was standing there with my coins in hand, hesitant about whether to put them in the machine as I did not want to frighten the lovebird. Right then and there I had an epiphany. I suddenly thought to myself "This is my life. I am in a laundromat and I can't start my wash because, in doing so, I may frighten a tropical bird into further head injury. Something needs to change." So, I've decided to improve my place in life.

Anyways, back to my story...the owner caught the bird and it was returned to its parents, unharmed. The mother bird puked in the baby's beak and all was well.

The end.

Winter Safety

2007-03-01T15:38:00.000-08:00

I really like this picture. My sister took it. She takes lots of amazing pictures, but I can't show them to you because they are of her family (you know, the privacy thing). I love this bunny! He is just sitting there, contently on the step, curiously looking in the window at the human on the other side. The glowing sunlight acts as a reminder that spring is just around the corner.

When I look at this picture I can't help but smile. But...wait a minute...why isn't the bunny afraid? Maybe he is rabid! Maybe that liquid on the step is actually foam that was pouring from his mouth!

This picture frightens me!

A word to the wise: Beware of bunnies who pose for pictures!! (That includes drunk girls that dress up as Playboy Bunnies for Hallowe'en. They're probably dirty).

Dude, where's my skirt?

2007-02-27T17:25:00.000-08:00

I was experiencing wardrobe malfunction at work today. I was wearing a knee-length black skirt with black tights and the skirt kept twisting around. It has always been too big for me (it was on sale and the only size left wasn't mine). But a deal is a deal, right? So, I kept struggling with my outfit and it was rather distracting. On the way home from work I ran a few errands. I caught a bus and went to Value Village and the grocery store. I decided to walk home and while I was walking I looked down and realized that I was no longer wearing my skirt! I wasn't a total exhibitionist as I was wearing my down-filled winter coat which almost reaches my knees. But the fact remained that my skirt was missing! I know that I was wearing it when I put my coat on when I left work. I can't imagine that I wouldn't have felt it falling to my ankles while I walked. So all that I can think is that it fell off on the bus, or (even sadder) I forgot to put it back on when I was trying on clothes at Value Village. Right now, I am imagining my sad black skirt hanging on a hook in one of those dreary dressing rooms. Hopefully someone in need of a black skirt will try it on and it will actually fit them.

I'm trying not to think about it. Actually it could have been much worse. I could have had an appointment and taken off my coat in a waiting room only to discover that I was only half-dressed. (And I wouldn't have looked like the woman in this picture).

I believe that there is a lesson to be learned here. I think that I should wear a belt more often...or suspenders. Or maybe I should buy clothes that fit me. I guess that five bucks for a skirt isn't such a great deal when you end up losing it:(

I Need An Effin' Smoke!

2007-02-26T18:08:00.000-08:00

I had an appointment out of town today, so I travelled on the Greyhound. When I boarded the bus on the way home, a passenger frantically ran up to the driver and said "Do I have time for a quick smoke?" in a really raspy voice. The driver said "No, we are leaving now". To which she responded "Then where the hell is my husband?" Finally the husband boarded the bus with a bag of chips and pop in hand and loudly exclaimed "See what I have to do for my pregnant woman?!"

Nice!

When we reached our final destination and I got off of the bus, I saw the husband and wife huddled together on the sidewalk. The woman shakily lit her cigarette, took a long drag and said "Man, I needed that effin' smoke!" It was then that I noticed her sweatshirt protruding (yes, her coat was wide open even though it was freezing out) as she was definitely great with child.

I can almost guarantee that the fine pair were from the Niagara Region, but oddly enough they spoke with a Southern drawl. I find that a lot in these here parts. Perhaps it is the native dialect of the Golden Horseshoe.

Burpalicious

2007-02-22T17:40:00.000-08:00

So, here is my last "kid's song" (at least for now). I've had a special request from a cute little blue-eyed boy (who is just starting to eat solid food) for the song "Fergalicious", the kid's version. Here it is:

Burpalicious

four, tres, two, uno

(Will I Am)

Listen up y'all, cuz this is it
This burp is so strong I'm gonna need a bib

(Fergie)

Burpalicious definition bubble in my tummy
The louder that I burp it tells ya that my meal was yummy
You can hug me, you can squeeze me
Just tap me on my backie
If you're lucky I'll spit something out
Just like it's chewin' tobaccy

Burpalicious (so delicious)
That meal was nutritious
To the point of barfalicious
And that ain't fictitious
I blow kisses (mmmwwaahhh)
And then I hiccup, hiccup
And then there's room for more, so fill my bottle up!

So delicious (It's a gastronomic delight)
So delicious (Sometimes it even hurts)
So delicious (Hope you're not wearin' your favourite shirt)
I'm burpalicious (t-t-t-t-t-tasty, tasty!)

I Like Big Trucks

2007-02-21T15:05:00.000-08:00

Thanks to my last post, I've had a few requests for child-friendly translations of adult songs. So, the next song goes out to my gangsta nephew who also likes "I Like Big Butts" by Sir Mix-A-Lot. (I didn't think that kids listened to this kind of stuff, but then I remembered that I was first introduced to the French language in 1975 by Patti Labelle's song about a New Orleans hooker entitled "Lady Marmalade". Remember the line "Voulez-vous coucher avec moi, ce soir?").

I Like Big Trucks

*talking*

Oh my gosh
Becky, look at his truck
It's so big
It looks like one of those toy Hummers
Who would want one of those?
My dad says that they use a lot of gas
And you can never find a parking space big enough
I mean his truck
It's so dirty
It looks like it's been in a mud puddle
And so do his hands
I mean, it's gross
Look, he probably never washes them.

*rap*

I like big trucks and I cannot lie
You other brothers can't deny
That when you go to Toys R Us
You make a lot of fuss
When your parents just refuse to buy
You that truck
The Ford F-150 Street Beast RC
It runs on 9.6 Volt batteries
And the Monster Jam Monster Truck, yo!
They are both manufactured by Tyco
I also like the old-school toys
Like Matchbox and Hotwheels
I trade them with my boys
Yah I like to wheel and deal
Once I traded an Igor snack
For a Tonka Fire Rescue Pack
And that was a real sacrifice
'Cuz those Igor snacks are nice!

So Fellas (Yeah!) Fellas (Yeah!)
Do you got some junk in that trunk? (Heck, Yeah!)
Well, drive it, drive it, drive it, drive it, drive that big toy truck
Baby got truck!

While I wrote these lyrics, I realized that some children have difficulty saying the word "Truck". Maybe parents are better off to stick with Sir Mix-A-Lot's version of the song.

Stay tuned for my next post where I will change the song "Fergalicious" to "Burpalicious"!

Suzzy Back

2007-02-19T19:06:00.000-08:00

I have just discovered that my two year old nephew loves the song "Sexy Back" by Justin Timberlake. I thought that the lyrics weren't suitable for a two year old, so I have changed them a bit so that he can sing along. My nephew has already changed the title to "Suzzy Back" :

I'm bringin' suzzy back (Yeah!)
I got some toys in my "Dora" back pack (Yeah!)
Give me yogurt and Mum-mums for my snack (Yeah!)
I like the movie "Cars" because it's whack (Yeah!)
Take 'em to my crib

I'm a babe
No, I'm a toddler
Sometimes I misbehave
But I mean no harm, baby, it's just my age
And I'll grow outta it, maybe, one day

Take 'em to the sandbox

Thomas the Tank Engine
Put the DVD on, will ya
The Backyardigans
Put the DVD on, will ya
Blue's Clues
Put the DVD on, will ya
Dora the Explorer
Put the DVD on, will ya
Ruby and Max
Put the DVD on, will ya
The Wiggles
Put the DVD on, will ya
Throw on some Shrek
Put the DVD on, will ya
How's about some Ice Age
Put the DVD on, will ya
Anything but Caillou
(He's a little cry baby)

I'm bringin' suzzy back (Yeah!)
I think it's time for my mornin' nap (Yeah!)
Read me a story, come on make me laugh (Yeah!)
I'll be sleepin' mama, in a snap (Yeah!)

Take me to my toddler bed!

I've submitted these lyrics to Justin Timberlake's website. I am hoping to collaborate with him in the production of a children's cd. I would re-write all of the songs from his current cd and make them child-friendly. We will definitely need to work on the title. I am thinking "Futurepets/Lovehounds".

Living In The Twilight Zone

2007-02-17T10:40:00.000-08:00

My last post was completely fictitious, but the story that I am about to tell in this post is very strange, but true. On Thursday night I had an appointment in a part of town that I have never been to. After my appointment I went to the bus shelter to wait for a bus. There had been a heavy snowstorm the day before and there were piles of snow around the shelter and not one single footprint. I thought that this was odd but I decided to wait for the bus anyways. It was very cold outside and since I was standing in the snow, my boots got wet and my feet were freezing. I had decided to wait for an hour since buses run about once an hour. At one point, an old man walked past the shelter and I asked him if he thought the buses were still running. He said that he had no idea and continued to walk. After an hour I decided to call a cab. I went to a plaza that had a lobby. There was a pay phone but no telephone book. There was a fitness centre in the basement so I went there to find a phone book. Sure enough, the man that I had talked to at the bus shelter was sitting in a chair in the fitness centre. He said "So I guess that the bus never came?" and I said "No". He responded "Well, if you want to wait a bit my friends can give you a ride, as long as you don't mind that they have been drinking". I said "Yes, I mind" (not that I would have taken the ride if they were sober). His friends arrived with bottles of rye, vodka and gin. I said "What kind of a gym is this anyways?" They seemed uncomfortable and one of them uttered "A private gym". I will also add that there were signs posted that said "Spa" and "Massage".hmmm.

I waited in the lobby for my taxi and when it arrived there was a boy who looked about twelve years old behind the wheel. I was in shock and blurted out "How old are you? Are you old enough to drive?" He coyly said "How old are you?" He told me he was 22. I laughed nervously as I was sure that this was some kind of a joke. He then said "Okay, I'll be honest with you. My babysitter was in the shower with her boyfriend and I took her car". I laughed again and then just looked ahead thinking "Oh well. This is better than waiting in the cold for a bus and he is a pretty good driver". He told me that his girlfriend was 30 and he had just been cast in a commercial to play the role of a fifteen year old. He was beautiful with piercing blue eyes, sugar blond spiky hair and a clean shaven (or never shaven) face. But he still had the appearance of a twelve year old. He told me that I had hurt his feelings when I had laughed about his age. I apologized (I still feel bad about it). At the end of my ride he asked "So, how did I drive for not having my license?" I laughed nervously once again and was glad to be home.

I slept soundly and do not remember any of my dreams. My dreams probably weren't very memorable as they could not surpass the bizarre events of the day. When I awoke, my cat Sista Soldia was snuggled against me as usual. I groggily looked at the pillow beside me as there seemed to be some sort of object resting on it. I focused and realized that it was a piece of cat poo! The worst part of this story is that I was so tired that I just rolled over and slept for another half hour.

The poo is long gone and the pillow case and pillow have been washed, but I am still wondering what would possess one of my feline friends to do such a thing? All that I can remember is that Sista Soldia was sitting on my lap the night that I composed the post about the gold cat necklace. I guess that she didn't like my post:(

If You Don't Know Me By Now....

2007-02-15T20:37:00.000-08:00

So, yesterday was Valentine's Day. I went to Ivan's for dinner and I was in a great mood! After dinner we exchanged gifts. Now, in my last post, when I brought up the topic of our impending gift exchange, I was going to write "I just hope that he didn't get me anything with cats on it". Now, I love cats. They make wonderful pets and I have a small collection of real cats. But, just because I like cats, that doesn't mean that I need to surround myself with "cat things". I do have other interests, you know.

When Ivan handed me the gift-wrapped box, my heart raced. I knew that it must be jewellery because of the weight and size. I opened it and was nearly blinded by all of the golden hideousness! (and just in case you were wondering, the bell actually rings! So, not only do I look like an idiot when I wear this thing, I sound like an idiot too). Ivan, I am sorry if you are reading this, but, really...do you know me at all? Have you ever seen me wear gold? What outfit did you think this necklace would match with? Maybe a sweatshirt that has a cat on it with sequins for eyes? I don't have a sweatshirt like that now but I am sure that you will buy me one for my birthday!

I'm sorry. I know that I'm being nasty. It is the thought that counts, right? But I'm still wondering....what the *&@# was he thinking?

Valentine's Eve

2007-02-13T19:28:00.000-08:00

So, it is the night before Valentine's Day and, well, that's not such a big deal. But it does feel like Christmas Eve because it is snowing out (which it didn't do this past Christmas). We were talking about the impending storm at work today and I said that businesses such as restaurants and theatres would suffer if there was inclement weather on Valentine's Day. My coworker responded "Well, that's okay, people will just stay in and cuddle". So, I said "Yah and a lot of babies will be born in November of 2007". That seems to be the trend after a power outage or seasonal storm. What's up with that? If people have to think about wearing snow boots or a raincoat, they forget to think about other kinds of "protection"?

Okay, I really don't know where I am going with this blog. I wanted to post about Valentine's Day and I found this cool clip art so I will just try to keep with the theme. Today I went to the dollar store by my work and when I was leaving, the owner said "Happy Valentine's Day tomorrow!" That was a bit odd because firstly, I have never heard people wish other people a "Happy Valentine's Day" and secondly, I have never heard people wish people a "Happy Valentine's Day" the day before. I guess that he assumed that I might have a special someone because I purchased razors and deodorant. But what if I didn't? What if that greeting was enough to put me over the edge? Then I thought that it would have been funny if I had turned to him and said "What's so happy about it? You know, I had completely forgotten that it was Valentine's Day tomorrow and then you had to go and remind me about how lonely I am! You know what? You are probably the only person that will wish me a 'Happy Valentine's Day'. Do you want to know what my plans are for tomorrow night? I'm going to have a bath, shave my legs and listen to ABBA records with my ten cats. That's what I am going to do. Oh, and the deodorant? Today my boss took me aside and discreetly informed me that there have been a few 'complaints' around the office. Yah. And I had to come to a dollar store to make my purchases because I spent the last of my pay cheque on canned cat food and celebrity gossip magazines". I guess that wouldn't be very funny, but that is how my imagination works.

While on the topic of dysfunctional Valentines, if you get a chance, check out www.postsecret.com. There are some pretty twisted postcards on this week's installment. I'm excited about my Valentine's Day plans. Ivan said that he knows that I will like my present because he doesn't like it...hmmm...I'm not sure what that means, but I'll keep you posted.

Some Good, Clean Fun

2007-02-12T18:18:00.000-08:00

I always get excited about a deal. The other day, I was telling a dear friend of mine about a sale on Ivory Soap at Shopper's Drug Mart. It is only 99 cents for a three-bar pack! I bought the lavender scented Ivory and it's very nice. After I told my friend about my purchase, he suddenly looked very sullen, shook his head and said "But those poor elephants" and walked into the other room with his head down. I was confused, as the first image that popped into my head was of a scientist on a ladder, putting drops of Ivory soap in an elephant's eye to test for sensitivity. That didn't make sense. Wouldn't it be easier to use rabbits, or better yet, humans?

But then I understood the joke and the connection between "ivory" and "elephants". I thought it was the cutest thing eva! I asked my friend if he made it up himself and he claims that he did (and no, he's not 80 years old!).

Friends are nice, especially friends that bring the funny! Okay, I've got to go watch "The Lawrence Welk" show, now.

Not Recommended For Those With Weak Hearts

2007-02-11T20:04:00.000-08:00

I went to see the movie "Smokin' Aces" and I think that it should be called "Exploding Hearts". I didn't have any expectations when I went to see the movie. I wasn't familiar with the plot line and I hadn't read any reviews. So I really wasn't prepared for the graphic violence. I spent most of the movie crouched down in my seat and I could hear my heart pounding in my ears. When the movie was over I told Ivan that I felt really anxious and I had a pain in my chest. He then pointed out to me that that is why some rides at amusement parks have warnings that people with heart conditions shouldn't participate in them. I don't have a heart condition, but do believe that I was experiencing the after-effects of a pretty scary ride. I cannot stomach the sight of blood and while watching this movie I thought that I was going to regurgitate my $7.00 hot dog. While the characters were shot and stabbed I could hear the teenagers behind me saying "Cool" and "Awesome". It was a bit disturbing. Maybe I am a weak person as I get lost in the realism of such films but I cannot view it as simple comic book violence and I worry that people are growing desensitized to violence through movie murders.

But, there were some stellar performances in this film. Jason Bateman was hilarious as a fumbling lawyer with angry-looking cold sores and a fetish for women's lingerie and mascot heads. Jeremy Piven's character "Buddy Israel" would be the perfect poster boy for an anti-drug campaign. Alicia Keyes seemed quite comfortable in front of the camera in her first acting role as a no-nonsense hit woman. There were also some very unique characters in this film. In one scene, a killer has a conversation with his victim by moving the corpse's mouth with his hand. In the conversation, the killer acts as a ventriloquist and seeks forgiveness for his crime. This scene is delivered with dark humour, but it is still quite disturbing. Another interesting character is a 10 year old boy who has very thick glasses and a bandage over his one eye. He is obsessed with martial arts and numchucks. He lives with his grandmother because his mother abandon him and his father is in prison.

"Smokin' Aces" was an interesting movie. It was visually stimulating (at least the scenes that I didn't have to look away from) and action packed. It also had an intricate story line that had to be explained to me later. I will not discuss it here as that would give away the movie. As I left the theatre, I believe that I suffered from post-traumatic stress disorder. I went to Seven Eleven because I had recovered from my "movie theatre hot dog nausea" and was craving a Taquito (they have a deal where one Taquito is $1.39, but if you buy two it is only $2.49! Ivan always argues with me that you aren't saving money if you buy two, because it is still cheaper to buy one. He should just keep his opinions to himself because he always benefits from this "deal" as I always give him the second Taquito!) Anyways, I went to Seven Eleven and I was making my purchase and I suddenly had this fear that somebody was going to walk into the store and open fire. I began to sweat and my heart was racing and the kid behind the register couldn't ring in my sale fast enough. But as I felt those warm Taquitos in my hands, I began to feel better.

When I got home, I had a Taquito and some "Sweet Chili Heat" flavoured Doritos. All of that stress dissipated. I am growing concerned that I am beginning to use food as a source of comfort. Right now I am having a glass of milk and some Chips Ahoy cookies. At "No Frills" this week, a family pack of Chips Ahoy is only $1.97! That's a lot of cookies for a single gal. That's why I eat them twice a day. Three as an afternoon snack and three as a bedtime snack. (I have to eat them before they expire!) I've had my last cookie and now it is bedtime.

Good night and sweet (violence-free) dreams!

This Lil' Piggy

2007-02-08T15:56:00.000-08:00

Wow! Thank you for all of your comments. I just wanted to let "Flowerchild" know that I think about you every time that I write a blog. I imagine you reading it as the sun rises and everyone else is still asleep. It warms my heart to know that I make you smile:)

A few people at my work have joined a Fitness Challenge. Every day I hear them talk about their "work outs" while they crunch on raw vegetables at their desks. You would think that their motivation and drive would inspire me to improve my lifestyle. It has actually had the opposite effect and I have begun to rebel a bit. For example, today a coworker brought Tim Hortons donuts to the office. While every one sighed and awkwardly walked past them like they were steaming piles of cow dung, I ate two in a row! Yes, I have been eating like a pig and I also accept rides home whenever they are offered to me. In the past I would say "That's okay, I like to walk". This is what I ate today:

Breakfast
Three Oreo Cookies
Two Tim Hortons Donuts

Lunch
(I had a free coupon for a lunch buffet so I had a bit of everything!)
Rice
Beef Stir Fry
Penne with Beef
Maple Glazed Chicken Thighs
Roasted Potatoes
Green Beans

Afternoon Snack
Half of a Mammoth Sized Brownie
Flavoured Coffee (Half English Toffee and Half French Vanilla)

I am not sure of what I will have for dinner, but I was thinking about frying up some bacon and eating the rest of that brownie. I know, this is just wrong! And the funny thing is, today I was complaining about having a huge headache (probably because all that I have eaten today is sugar!). I waited until 1:30pm to have lunch because I was still full from my "breakfast". When I complained to my coworkers about my headache they said "That's because you have waited so long to have lunch. You need to eat!" And I agreed. I wasn't about to remind them about the two donuts that I ate earlier. It's not like I had hid them or anything. I ate them in plain view, at my desk.

You know, a little extra insulation isn't a bad thing at this time of year. I need it for my walks to and from work (even though I usually get a ride home). Today, a woman at work was complaining that whenever she gains weight it goes right to her boobs. I think that is what inspired me to eat that second donut. The voice in my head was saying "Bring it on, Sista! Bring it on!"

It's Crazy Cold Out!!

2007-02-07T18:10:00.000-08:00

Yes, it is ridiculously cold outside. Today, on the walk home from work, I was so cold that I think that I stopped breathing and I began to think really strange things (extreme cold has the same effect on my mind as extreme heat). I can't really remember what I was thinking about, but I know that I had to keep reminding myself to breathe. I think it is a natural reaction to hold one's breath when it is really cold. I'll have to look into that. And believe me, I dress for the weather; faux fur lined boots, down coat, scarf, hat and thinsulate gloves. It is not very fashionable attire and if I were to go missing, the description of what I was last seen wearing would make people wonder if I had just wandered away from "a home". But I learned long ago that it is more important to feel warm than to look hot! (Get it? Hot?)

So, my apartment is a little cozier today. After some phone calls to friends, I was given the "low down" on rad bleeding. Also, the maintenance man came today to patch up my ceiling. He will be returning to put on another layer of plaster and paint but at least the wood is no longer exposed and the light fixture is working. I gave everything a good cleaning and it is livable for now. This morning I forgot to take all of my toiletries off of the shelves in preparation for the repair. Before I left for work, the maintenance man was carefully moving everything onto the kitchen table. At one point I looked over and he was carrying a couple of boxes of feminine hygiene products like they were bombs that were about to explode. You would think that I would be embarrassed about that, but I just thought it was funny. He seemed like a dad and/or husband so I am sure that it isn't anything that he hasn't seen before. The cats were checking him out and he was asking me what their names were and if they were allowed to go outside. So, I went to work leaving a strange man in my apartment, but I felt confident that everyone and everything would be fine.

My imagination tends to be quite colourful, so at certain points throughout the day, I would have visions of the maintenance man trying on some of my outfits. Or playing my "Guess Who" album and drinking Kahlua while slow-dancing with the cats to "These Eyes". Or making long distance calls on my phone. All of these things are possible, but not likely.

Maybe I am a bit naive. Sometimes I trust strangers more than I should. About three years ago, I would walk a relatively isolated nature path on my way to and from work. It was basically a half hour walk in the woods. When I told my sister about it she responded with "Hey, why don't you just wear a t-shirt that says 'Please Kill Me'?" My sister is pretty funny. Luckily, I never did encounter any dangerous situations on that path. But if I had gone missing, wouldn't it be funny if the description of what I was last seen wearing included a "Please Kill Me" t-shirt? Okay, maybe not funny...but ironic? (I never know if I am using the word "ironic" in the correct context. Speaking of irony, did you know that Alanis Morrisette misuses the word "Ironic" in her song with the same title? The situations that are presented in that song cannot be defined as ironic).

Whatever! This blog is sooooo done. Good night and keep warm (and safe)!

I Think I'd Rather Pee Outside

2007-02-06T16:51:00.000-08:00

It never fails. I hardly ever leave my apartment for more than one day and on the rare occasion that I do, the whole place falls apart...or at least the bathroom did. I came home from work yesterday (I hadn't been home for two days) only to find bits of plaster on the kitchen floor. I then looked in the bathroom and found a soggy sheet of drywall on the floor and an exposed ceiling. It turns out that my neighbour above me had a flood in her washroom on Saturday night (the tank broke on her toilet). This flood caused my ceiling to cave in. I tried to clean it the best that I could. A neighbour helped me carry the drywall out. I swept up bits of plaster and cleaned the toilet, sink and tub with bleach, but that room is still freaking me out! My light fixture doesn't work, but the electrical outlet does, so I am doing everything by lamp light. Luckily most of my toiletries were packed from the weekend, because everything that was left in the washroom has nasty brown water spots on it (everyone has assured me that this isn't sewage, but simply water that has been discoloured by the wood). The maintenance man for my apartment building came by last night to assess the damage. He told me that he would be back today while I was at work, but I came home tonight to find everything as I left it. There was a note in the hallway that said "Work done on boiler today. You may have to bleed your rads". What the hell does that mean? Do I need a special tool for that? The only contact number that I have for the maintenance guy is a daytime number so I have no choice but to live in squalor for another night. My apartment has a musty smell. Even the ceiling in my kitchen cupboard is starting to come down. I feel like I should give everything a good scrubbing, but then I think, why bother? It is going to be torn apart again when the old drywall is ripped out and the new drywall is installed.

Everyone is asking me if the cats were freaked out. Well, I wasn't here to witness their reaction to the ceiling dropping, but I do notice that whenever they hear a noise, they anxiously look up like they are expecting the sky to fall.

Maybe I'll go take a nap. I tend to do that when I am overwhelmed by a situation. One time I was making eggs for dinner and I cracked open a shell and the whole yolk fell onto the stove element. Most people would clean it up, but I reacted by shutting off the stove, setting the frying pan aside and taking a nap. I think that the mess was ten times harder to clean after 24 hours but I chose the nap so that was the price that I was willing to pay. I remember telling my sister that story after she had had a busy day as a working mom. She was disgusted by my sloth-like behaviour, but I think that she secretly envied me as well.

I think that I will look into the whole "rad bleeding" thing. My apartment is freezing and it is making me want to go pee, but I don't want to go in that room.

Today I thought about the "last man on earth" again. I am convinced that he will be some sort of handyman. I've been spending lots of time with those sorts lately.

Lovers' Dreams

2007-02-05T18:45:00.000-08:00

Ivan says that he doesn't dream. Or, at least he can't remember his dreams. So, when he told me that he had a dream about me, I was quite excited! I wondered what it was about...Maybe he dreamt that we hadn't seen each other in a long time and we were running towards each other (in slow motion) across a field of daisies. Or maybe he dreamt that I looked like the girl in this picture. (Okay, I kind of do, but I don't fill out a tank top quite like that;)

No, Ivan's dream wasn't very romantic. This is his dream. He dreamt that he went into the washroom to take a shower only to discover that I had puked in the tub and hadn't cleaned it up! Nice, eh? And the strangest part about the dream is that he remembers feeling stressed out because he couldn't prove that I had done it (even though I was the only other person in the house). And he didn't want to accuse me of it because he thought it would hurt my feelings. I guess that's kind of sweet...

I was about to go all "dream analytical" on him, but then he reminded me that it was my fault that he dreamt it. I had forgotten that weeks earlier he had asked me if everything was okay because I had been in the washroom for a long time. I told him that I was puking in the tub. I really wasn't, I just thought it would be a funny thing to say. (I didn't want to tell him that I was busy checking my head for lice! Yes, I still have a lice phobia).

I guess that you were probably expecting a romantic, perhaps even sensual blog. I'm sorry but I'm not that kind of gal. And stuff like that makes me want to puke...in a tub!! Ha ha! I'm soooo funnnay!

The Last Man On Earth

2007-02-02T18:05:00.000-08:00

I just had a very hot bath. The kind of hot where you are sweating so badly by the end of the bath, that you need to take a shower. The kind of hot where I am wondering if I should be calling Telehealth. The kind of hot where you start thinking about strange things...such as this:

Joe Pesci was voted "the unsexiest man alive" one year. I was thinking about this and how he must have felt to hear the news. Then I started thinking about the last man on earth. It was then that I realized that I think about the last man on earth quite often. You see, when I go about my daily travels, I find that undesirable men are not afraid to compliment and speak to women that they don't know. I guess that they feel that they have nothing to lose. I am flattered by such compliments, even if the man is visually impaired or drunk at noon. And for a fleeting moment I ask myself "if he were the last man on earth? Hmm...Naahh!!" There are also men that I know and see almost every day. I find myself thinking the same thing about them. These thoughts fill me with despair. And now I am convinced that it is my fate to find myself in that situation...all alone with the last man on earth. This is very similar to my fear of having to wear adult diapers prematurely because I used to laugh at the Depends commercials when I was a kid.

Then I started to think about the health conditions that I have had and willed away. When I was a child, I had head lice. I knew that I had it and I didn't want anyone to know. I remember that I would look out of the classroom window every day and dread the sight of the white Public Health van. Well, one day the van arrived and I prayed that the nurse wouldn't discover that I had lice. Sure enough, she looked through my hair and I passed the test. Okay, maybe the nurse wasn't very bright. But I did go home and tell my mom and she bought the "exterminator" shampoo and then I really didn't have head lice...There was another time that I had a very bad planter's wart on the bottom of my foot. My doctor referred me to a dermatologist for liquid nitrogen treatments. I was told that I would need about five treatments. I walked into the office and realized that my ex-boyfriend's girlfriend was the receptionist. I winced through the first treatment and promised myself that I would never return. The wart vanished within a week.

Then, as I got out of the tub and admired my glowing red skin in the mirror, my thoughts came full circle. I thought "Sista, get over yourself! You are probably 'the last woman on earth" to some men". My conscience can be pretty mean sometimes.

p.s. If I had to choose between Joe Pesci and the plumber, I would choose Joe Pesci. At least he has cute dimples. The only dimples that I have seen on the plumber are on his ass! (sorry for the swear word)

One For The Gingers

2007-01-31T20:37:00.000-08:00

While watching "Some Kind Of Wonderful" last weekend, my boyfriend turned to me and said "Have you ever noticed that in John Hughes movies, the 'outcasts' are usually red-heads?" And then I thought about it and realized that that was quite a profound statement. He was right! Let's take a look at some of his movies:

Sixteen Candles:
Molly Ringwald (red hair) awkward teen infatuated with a highschool senior.
Joan Cusack (red hair) geeky teen with braces and a neck brace on. I don't think that she had any lines in that movie but she was always making peculiar sounds.
Anthony Michael Hall (strawberry blonde) awkward teen infatuated with Molly Ringwald's character.

Pretty In Pink:
Molly Ringwald (red hair) awkward teen infatuated with a "richie".

Some Kind of Wonderful:
Eric Stoltz (red hair) awkward teen infatuated with a shallow gold digger.
The geeky guy that Mary Stuart Masterson asks to pretend that he likes her (red hair).

Ferris Bueller's Day Off:
The school secretary (red hair).
The Principal (strawberry blonde).

I looked for a picture of John Hughes and discovered that he is a brunette. But he obviously has an affection for redheads as he ensures that his ginger characters overcome their obstacles and find happiness.

When I was in grade school, I was fascinated with red-haired boys (in the same way that I thought it was cool when people were left handed). But in grade four, I had a crush on a ginger named Michael. I don't know if he was aware of it, but it didn't matter because it turned out that he had a crush on a blue-eyed blonde instead. It was then that I stopped liking red-haired boys. Michael smelled like creamed corn anyways...

Today it seems that red-haired celebrities try to cover their roots. Nicole Kidman is now a blonde. Lindsay Lohan (I think we all know what she has been nicknamed) now has black hair.In the first Spiderman movie, Kirsten Dunst wore a red wig. Was she afraid of becoming a ginger and colouring her hair? While on the other hand, Jon Heder dyed his hair red and sported a perm in "Napoleon Dynamite" and was only paid $1000.00 to star in that film!

I guess that the moral of this blog is that gingers are people too! If you come across one in your travels today, stop and give them a hug. They probably need one because who knows what kind of day they are having. Maybe they gave a pair of their underwear to a geek and he charged his friends $10 each for a peek. Or maybe their dad bought them a hideous prom dress. Or perhaps they wanted to borrow their friend's car to drive a girl home and it wouldn't start. Or maybe they went to work and didn't realize that they were wearing their bra over their sweater. You'll have to watch some John Hughes movies to understand what I am talking about.

Representin' The Buddha

2007-01-29T18:43:00.000-08:00

I would like to thank "anonymous" for their comment on my last post. They referred to me as a busy gal and said that they were disappointed when they have to wait two days for a blog. Well, in reality, I am not that busy and usually when I haven't blogged it is because nothing very interesting happened that day, or I got home from work and took a nap that lasted until the next morning. (I kid. I really don't do that...most days) If I blogged on a "boring day" it would be like this:

I woke up. One of the cats puked on the rug. Why can't they do it on the hardwood or the linoleum? I went to work. I ate too much at lunch. I finished work. I bought some groceries on the way home (I do that sometimes, really). I discovered that they have named a new snack food after a good friend of mine. I checked out my blog. I had dinner. I did the dishes and scooped the cats' litter box. I talked on the phone. I picked out my outfit for tomorrow. I swiffered. I stayed up too late...again.

So, that is a boring day. But, one of the highlights of my day is visiting www.bionicbuddha.com. At the bottom of my blog page you will find a link to their blog. (I don't know how to put a link here). Check out their blog and also click on their link to a short film that one of the members has put on YouTube. It's awesome!

Beautiful People

2007-01-28T19:38:00.000-08:00

This is a picture of America Ferrara, the star of "Ugly Betty". I have watched a bit of the show and I have really warmed up to Betty's character. In one scene, she has given herself a makeover. It is a bit over-the-top and outdated, included big hair, drag queen make-up and a blazer with huge shoulder pads. She is walking down the street and a group of construction workers whistle at her. She stops and says "Me?" The workers nod in unison and she gratefully exclaims "Thank you!!" She then trips in her high heels as she continues to walk down the street. I also watched her acceptance speech during the Golden Globe Awards. She was graciously humble and spoke about self-esteem and the beauty that Betty possesses.

Now that I have talked about inner-beauty, I will talk about plastic people. This weekend I went to an establishment to watch a friend of a friend's band play. I haven't been in a "bar" atmosphere for a long time. Here is a conversation that I witnessed in the woman's washroom:

Girl #1: So who is Marc?

Girl #2: He's that guy that I kissed that time.

Girl #1: Oh, I like you and Kirk together better.

Girl #2: Well, that's good because I'm dating him.

Girl #1: Whatever you do, please don't let me drink tonight, kay?

Girl #2: I hope that Kirk never finds out about Marc.

Pretty deep, eh? I have never seen so much orange skin in one place. And the guys looked like plastic. They all had that heavily gelled spiked hair. There were two guys that had identical hair. I imagined that they probably did each other's hair before they went out that night. They also all wore jeans with "faux" rips in them. One guy had a rip on the back of his knees! In the real world, people never rip their jeans there. Also, the jeans were dark blue which makes the wear-and-tear even less believable. I felt out of place in my regular "coffee shop" attire. I was almost tempted to walk up to those two girls in the washroom and ask them if they had an extra halter-top in their purse that I could borrow.

But the band was really good. They did a great version of The Fray's "How To Save A Life". That song is my guilty pleasure. During the evening, the group of us talked about the "Plastic People". The evening ended with a good laugh when my boyfriend's friends made plans for the next day and the one said to the other "Are you going for your botox shot tomorrow? Well give me a call after you go to Mystic Tan!" It was hilarious! Hilarious!!

The Empty Fridge Special

2007-01-25T17:16:00.000-08:00

So, let me set the scene for you...it is now 8:00pm and I am hungry, my fridge is pretty much empty and it is waayy too cold for me to go outside to walk for a half hour to buy groceries! So, here are my choices for dinner tonight:

Appetizers

Aged Won Ton Noodles with Hot Sauce
Pickles with Sour Cream
Vegetable Chips with Aged Spaghetti Sauce Salsa

Salads

Sorry, the chef regrets that we do not have ingredients for salad today. But we do have a lovely, aged Zesty Italian Dressing.

Entrees

Egg and Milk Free Crepes (as we are out of eggs and milk today) filled with Aged Tomato Sauce, a Dollop of Sour Cream and a Sprinkle of Parmesan Cheese

A Tablespoon of Rice in a Creamy Philadelphia Cream Cheese Sauce with a Sprinkle of Dried Basil

Three-Flavour Mix Gourmet Cat Food Soup in a Thick, Aged Tomato Base with a Dollop of Sour Cream and a Sprinkle of Dried Basil (Aged Won Ton Noodles optional)

Desserts

Egg and Milk Free Crepes filled with Strawberry Jam and Cream Cheese
Aged Won Ton Noodles drizzled in a Maple Syrup Coulis
Vanilla and Strawberry Sugar Wafers
Aged Gummy Bears

Drink Menu

Tap Water
A Quarter Cup of Peach Flavoured Sparkling Water
African Redbush Tea
Red Wine
Kahlua

What was I complaining about? I have lots of options for dinner tonight...and luckily I have all of the ingredients that I need to make a creatively, nutritious meal! Bon Appetit (and pass the Pepto Bismol! Oh, I forgot, I don't have any...)

Feline Antics

2007-01-23T19:15:00.000-08:00

When I get home from work, sometimes I like to just sit and watch the cats play. Luckily they don't choose to do this at 3:00 in the morning. I find that they are pretty much on the same schedule as me. By 11:00pm they are pretty tired because they have spent their day cleaning my apartment, doing my laundry, talking on MSN or completing income tax returns (as a side business). Sometimes it is hard to get out of bed in the morning, because they don't want to get out of bed. There have been many mornings in which I am making the bed and a cat is sleeping on it. It makes me so tired that I am tempted to crawl back in for a few more minutes.

Cat playtime mostly consists of running from one end of the apartment to the other. Sometimes one cat will jump over another cat. Sometimes Gilbert (my tabby) will stand up against the wall by a doorway. I'll walk past him and I swear that I have seen him put his paw to his mouth as if to "sshhh" me. So I will walk into the other room and tell Sista (my short-haired black cat) that Gilbert is waiting around the corner so she'd better watch out. I don't know if she just doesn't listen to me or if she can't understand English because she falls for Gilbert's trick every time. She walks through the doorway and Gilbert jumps on top of her. Sometimes Gilbert hides in the closet waiting to jump out at Sista. That's when I will say "Oh, Gilbert is going to come out of the closet!" Sista and Bernie (my long-haired black cat) always get a good laugh out of that one. Gilbert just has a blank expression on his face and continues to wait for Sista to walk by. I wouldn't make that joke if I thought that Gilbert was homophobic or confused about his sexuality. I can guarantee you that he is all man! (even though he has been neutered)

I think that I need to spend more time with humans.

The Pursuit Of Happiness

2007-01-22T17:39:00.000-08:00

Life is a bowl of cherries. The problem is that I can never just enjoy the cherries. I worry that maybe I will eat too many and my stomach will hurt. Or, that I will eat all of the cherries and there will be a cherry famine and I won't be able to get more to fill the bowl. Or, I worry that I might choke on a pit. I often find it difficult to simply allow myself to be happy, to let go of my fears and enjoy the moment.

I wish that I were more like my dad. He radiates positive energy. He is always smiling, even when he falls asleep at the table after dinner. About three years ago, my dad bought my sister and I these cute wrought-iron ladybugs in Jordan. It was very sweet because my sister and I were admiring them in the store. On the way home, my dad gave each of us one (he had gone back into the store without us knowing and purchased them). At the time, I was going through a difficult period in my life. I remember my sister asking me to put the ladybug on my bedside table and to promise myself to wake up every morning and think of dad. Because my dad wakes up every day and sees it as a new opportunity.

Even when times were difficult on the farm, you would never know it by being around my dad. I believe that his positive thinking has brought him to the success that he experiences today.

I hope that one day I can make him proud and become the person that I aspire to be. Maybe I'll put that ladybug back on my bedside table...

"Run Lola Run" or "How To Make 100,000 Marks In Twenty Minutes"

2007-01-21T14:43:00.001-08:00

This weekend I saw "Run Lola Run", a German film which was released in 1998, but I haven't had the opportunity to watch until now. It is a great movie! The basic plot is that Lola's boyfriend Manni has lost a bag containing 100,000 Marks of his mob boss' money. He has 20 minutes to replace the funds before meeting with his boss. When Lola receives a frantic phone call from Manni, she assures him that she will somehow get the money. What follows is a brilliant sequence of events with three possible outcomes. In each scenario, Lola and Manni's fate is determined by the simple actions of others. This was explained to me as "The Butterfly Effect".

What I liked most about the movie was that every character was flawed, but likable at the same time. As Lola runs in a determined but seemingly directionless manner, you can't help but root for her. Even though the money that she is trying to obtain will become mob money, you want her to obtain it through whatever means possible. The visuals were amazing although I felt a little nauseous watching all of that running. As I explained before, I can walk for hours, but I can not run. Running makes me nauseous and every muscle in my body aches after 3 minutes.

Some other films that explore the themes of the butterfly effect and parallel universes are "Sliding Doors", "Toto le Heros" and numerous episodes of "Seinfeld". "Run Lola Run" is subtitled, but like most great subtitled films, you don't even realize that you are reading. I even began to convince myself that I could speak German. "Der tasche! Der tasche!"

Plumber's Wisecrack

2007-01-17T18:20:00.000-08:00

Whenever a plumber returns my call and says "So, I hear that you have a problem with your plumbing" or "When would you like me to take a look at your plumbing?" I am always tempted to say "Geez, you're gettin' a little personal". Bud dah dah ching! (Or the sound of crickets chirping).

Okay, so it's not that funny. And if I actually did say it, that would be so wrong. But I still think it and I laugh a little to myself. I would hate to say it accidentally and then later be alone in my apartment with the plumber while he fixes things. It would be so awkward. It would be awkward if he were attractive, and equally uncomfortable if he were hideous. So, alas, I will spare all plumbers my weak attempt at humour and keep it in this blog.

By the way, the whole "Plumber's Crack" thing is such a stereotype. Most plumbers that I know wear coveralls.

Waiting Room Woes

2007-01-16T19:14:00.000-08:00

So today I finally made the dreaded trip to the Walk-In Clinic. Yesterday I was wickedly ill. I stayed in bed all day and dreamt that germs were hitting me with baseball bats and I had to fill out purchase orders for them. I believe that those dreams were fever-induced. I wasn't well enough to go to the doctor's yesterday, but today I felt better so after work, I took a trip to the clinic.

I am usually a fairly patient person and waiting doesn't really bother me. But today there were a couple of kids in the waiting room that were really getting on my nerves (today I decided that I should never be a parent or a teacher). I am definitely an advocate of instilling self-confidence in youths, but these kids were over-the-top. A mother was at the doctor's with her, I would guess, 10 year old son and 15 year old daughter. The boy had a very high pitched voice and he kept dancing around. When his mother would tell him to stop, he would say "But I am just entertaining everybody". The daughter kept telling stories about her day, such as "Today I was listening to my i-pod in the hallway and I started singing out loud and everyone was looking at me. I'm going to be in a video at my school. I was chosen to be in it. Mom, how old are you again? I always think of you as 42 and I just can't seem to get it in my head that you are actually 3 years older than that now". Then a song came on the radio and she said "Oh I love this song". I cringed as I just knew that she would probably start singing at the top of her lungs and, sure enough, she did. Then the boy started looking at me and saying "How you doin?" I just kept reading my magazine because I really didn't want to encourage these prima donnas. I know, I sound like a real bi-atch, but it was really annoying. When the boy's name was called he stood up and kept saying "That's me! That's me! That's me!" I felt like I was waiting in an audition room for some breakfast cereal commercial.

Then it was my turn to see the doctor. She squeezed my face, looked in my ears, throat and nostrils (I don't know what she could see in my nostrils that wasn't already running down my face, but she wanted to look in there so I let her) and came to the conclusion that I had a sinus infection.

I then waited for a bus for 40 minutes in -12 degree weather. The whole time that I waited for that bus and felt different parts of my body going numb, I thought about those bratty kids and how they were in their nice warm vehicle on their way home. I also thought that maybe the cold weather would kill some of the germs. And I thought about how pretty the trees look with all of the ice on them. And then the bus came and I wasn't a bi-atch anymore.

Eee-I-Eee-I-Eee-I-Ohhhhh!!

2007-01-14T17:25:00.000-08:00

Today I was at Tim Hortons having a breakfast sandwich with sausage (they are pretty good, by the way) when a man sat down at the table next to me. He looked familiar and I was reminded of my childhood. He was eating a bagel and the woman that he was with was eating a raisin bran muffin and I couldn't stop looking at him, because I felt that I knew him. And then I realized that I did! I recognized him from many years of watching "Polka Party" as a kid (did you know that that show ran for 22 seasons and is one of the longest running series in Canadian television?) When a woman walked by and said "Hi Walter" I knew that I was right. It was Walter Ostanek!

I became very nervous because I knew that I had to say something. I finished my sandwich, took a swig of steeped tea and walked over and introduced myself. I shook his hand and told him that I had grown up watching his television show and that he was a legend (He has been nominated for 13 Grammies and has won 3!) He thanked me and then started asking questions about me such as was I still in school (I always like that one:) what did I do for a living and where was I from. He was very genuine and easy to talk to.

I am glad that I had the opportunity to talk to him. But I do regret that I didn't ask for his autograph. I didn't have anything for him to sign, except for a Greyhound bus ticket. I am sure that he would have happily signed it, but I felt silly. Did you know that Walter Ostanek has hundreds of autographs from his favourite country music stars? He regrets that he never had the opportunity to meet Elvis Presley, Carl Perkins or Roy Acuff.

So, today I met Canada's Polka King! It was definitely the highlight of my day. Now I am going to go on Ebay and look for some autographed pictures. Or maybe I'll bring my Walter Ostanek Band album to Tim Hortons next Sunday (and a felt-tipped pen!)

Liquidation Heaven

2007-01-11T18:25:00.000-08:00

I have always loved a deal. Since I was very young, I have had an affection for bargain shopping. Even as a fickle teenager, I was never embarrassed to buy clothing from a second hand store or a bargain shop.(Although, in the 80's, my sister and I would remove the labels from our "Esprit" or "Polo" clothing and sew them into our second hand store and bargain store purchases). But I have never enjoyed the wonders of shopping in Liquidation stores until now. My fella (let's call him Ivan, because "fella" sounds cheesy) introduced me to them. When we first went to one together, I stuck to the neatly stocked shelves containing dried goods and candles. I was intimated by the "messy" sections where everything seemed broken or dirty. But Ivan showed me that that is where the real gems can be found. I was amazed to watch him roll up his sleeves and dive right in. He opened boxes and began to assemble items, looking for missing parts. The key to successful Liquidation store shopping is to find something for at least 70% off. If it is broken, make sure that it is fixable. If it is dirty, try to determine the nature of the dirt and whether it can be removed. Then, you have a found yourself a deal!

Lately it has been a weekly ritual for us to visit the Liquidation store in my city. These stores usually remain open for a mere couple of months. As the one in my city neared its closing date, its contents went from 50% off to 70% and finally 90% off!
Last night, Ivan purchased a beautiful screen for his fireplace and a wrought iron log holder for $20.00 (including taxes)! For $3.65 (including taxes) I found a great pair of black corduroy pants and a cool Japanime rock band toy (complete with miniature pet cats, backstage passes and cereal boxes(?). It was an exciting evening! Today on the way to work, I passed by the store and the windows were papered up. I felt a bit nostalgic. For a brief time, that was "our place". Sniff...

It's funny, because now when I shop in second hand stores, or bargain stores such as Giant Tiger, I really think about my purchases. Value Village has become quite pricey, so now I am more likely to pass on purchases there as I can buy brand new items for less at a Liquidation store. (Don't get me wrong...I still encourage people to shop at second hand stores, especially if they are Non-profit organizations).

When I first saw Ivan's house, I was impressed by his knack for decorating. As I admired his various collections, area rugs and small appliances, he would point to items and tell me that he found them at Liquidation stores. Many of the items were originally from Pier One. From what I understand, when a store closes, Liquidation warehouses will purchase the inventory. The inventory is brought to a warehouse and kept in boxes on skids. Anyone can open a Liquidation store, but when they purchase their inventory, they purchase by the skid and have no idea of what is in the boxes.
Interesting, eh?

So, that is my lesson on Liquidation store shopping. So, the next time you pass by a Liquidation store, pull into the parking lot, roll up your sleeves and take a look! You never know what you might find....

A Surplus of Mucus

2007-01-09T17:03:00.000-08:00

I have been ill for eight days. Actually, I feel fine but my head is full of a never ending supply of mucus. I don't have a fever and I am not coughing. But I swear that I could blow my nose every five minutes and still have more to blow. I don't know where it is all coming from! I don't mean to gross you out, but I really am a freak of nature right now. But I know that I am not alone. Almost everyone that I know has some form of cold or flu right now. Except for my fella, but I think that he has some sort of Eastern European spell or potion that keeps him safe.

My cold gets really embarrassing at work, because when I blow my nose at my desk, it lasts forever. I usually start laughing half way through (especially when I can hear people on the other side of the cubicle asking each other "What the hell is that noise"?). I would go to the washroom to blow my nose, but if I did that I would never be at my desk and I wouldn't get any work done. Actually, there is a woman in my office that can not stand it when people blow their nose in public. She told me that if her husband ever blew his nose in front of her, she would probably divorce him. The funny thing is, she sits right across from me and that hasn't stopped me from blowing my nose. I can't see her expression because there is a high cubicle between our work areas. But every time I finish blowing my nose, I wait for the silence to be interrupted by some sort of rant about how gross I am. It hasn't happened yet and I hope that it doesn't.

I am waiting for my illness to reach the 10 day mark and then I will go to the doctor. I dread going as I am sure to be stuck in the waiting area of some Walk-In Clinic with 20 other sick, gross people. Maybe I will even catch something else while I am there. I will have to take antibiotics and I hate taking medicine. If a medicine has any sort of side effect, I usually make myself believe that I am experiencing it. Usually within seconds of taking the medicine as well. Yes, it is all in my head.

I am growing accustom to the conjested feeling like I have been swimming or crying for 20 hours. I am also getting used to breathing with my mouth open. I catch glimpses of myself in the mirror and it is very attractive. I still have my tastebuds, but I have to be careful when I eat because I can only close my mouth for small intervals before I start having difficulty breathing. I also find that I am not such a quick thinker right now. It's like my head is all cloudy. Also, when you have to breathe with your mouth open, it is difficult to feel intelligent. It is sort of like "Faces You Should Never Make". (remember that blog?) After my mom read that blog she said that my sister and I looked like a pair of Siamese twins that she had watched a special about on tv. One is a Country & Western singer and...well....after she reminded me about them I had to agree that I did resemble the one twin...Okay, I digress...I have to go blow my nose....

The Fine Line Between Creep and Artist

2007-01-04T20:01:00.000-08:00

Last weekend I went for a hot beverage with my fella and his friend. We went to our usual place and it was crowded as it to be expected. At the table next to us, a mother was sitting with her young child, who was about three years old. He was very sweet and the interaction between the two of them was very endearing. But at one point, I noticed that at the table next to them a man was sketching the young boy without their knowledge. His hand moved quickly and his eyes darted from his notepad and back to his subject. I was a bit disturbed by this. I pointed it out to my table mates and although they could see my point, they said that it was a public place and the man wasn't really doing anything wrong. I was very curious and wanted to make sure that the man was really drawing a picture of the boy (I also wanted to see if he had any talent) so I went over to the creamer, stir stick and napkin bar and peeked over his shoulder. It was then that I realized that, not only was the man completing a sketch of the child, he had also finished a portrait of my fella (It was actually quite good).

When I returned to the table and informed my fella and his friend of this, they seemed uncomfortable for a moment, but then shrugged it off. We then became distracted by another freakish character who tried to strike up a conversation with us and follow us around the shopping mall.

I still think about this incident and wonder if this man has ever been approached by an unwilling model who requested that he stop drawing. But then I also think about the people that he has sketched and how they have become immortal on the page. Maybe some would be flattered...while others would be offended.

But as I mentioned before, he was quite talented. Perhaps he will become famous and the portrait of my fella will sell for thousands of dollars. Maybe he could seek royalties. All I know is, the next time that I go there for a hot beverage, I am going to make sure that I look my best. Because you just never know.....

Baby Talk

2007-01-02T19:00:00.000-08:00

My baby niece was born today! I have not been able to visit her as I have a really bad cold, but I hope to see her soon. All is well with mom and baby. I can't give out her stats or name for privacy reasons and she doesn't have a CB handle yet but she is healthy and from what I have heard, "very cute and neat". It was a bit of an adventure as no one could get in touch with my mom and dad as their fax machine was tying up the phone line. So, I called their next door neighbour and she informed me that they weren't home. She made sure to tell them the good news once they pulled in the drive.

I know all about the facts of life and a bit about science, but I am still amazed by the whole baby thing. I think that it is fascinating that we live the first nine months of our lives immersed in liquid, but our mothers have to worry about us in or near water after we are born. I also think that it is amazing that we are the combination of our parents genes and their parents genes and so on and that two people can make a new person. I also think that it is awesome that someone so small and fragile will eventually weigh 20 times more and be capable of so many things.

Welcome to the world, little one!

Love,
Aunt Cherry

Happy New Year!

2007-01-01T20:37:00.000-08:00

It appears that I have been on holidays, but in reality, I have only taken a holiday from blogging. My days off from work are Tuesday and Wednesday, so I have spent the holiday season working and trying to fit in social stuff, so I haven't taken the time to post. But as tomorrow is Tuesday and I am feeling inspired, I will post tonight.

I had a really nice New Year's Eve this year. I had to work New Year's Eve (day) and again today, but I still had an enjoyable evening. It was a casual get together with some dear friends, a few games of "Crazy 8's" and a glass of champagne. All of our watches and clocks were set to different times so we had to call someone to find out what the true time was. So we actually had two count downs and we still aren't sure which one was right, but it was a lot of fun. I think that this was the first year that I didn't watch the ball drop on tv, but we were listening to great music so it didn't matter. (Plus it's not the same without Dick Clark)

One thing that I have enjoyed about getting older is that my New Year's celebrations have become more relaxed. I like to stay away from bars and parties on New Year's. As long as you are with your close friends, that is all that matters. I know that it's cheesy but, I would like to get tickets to a New Year's dinner once and wear a fancy dress and stuff. But I guess that I could just cook dinner and wear a fancy dress at home next New Year's. I'm not a very good cook, but I do have a year to practise.

I was hoping that my sister would have a New Year's baby, but I am still anxiously awaiting the arrival of my new niece. All the best to my sister and a stress free delivery. And she knows that I want a phone call, even if the baby is born at three in the morning!

Here's to new beginnings and a Happy New Year! (There, I just clinked my glass against my computer monitor. It just has water in it but it's the thought that counts, right?)

Home For The Holidays

2006-12-26T18:35:00.000-08:00

Merry Christmas! I hope that everyone had a great Christmas. The majority of my readers consist of family members, so I thought that I would dedicate this blog to family and the holidays. I would like to include a picture of my family but they have declined, which I understand, due to privacy issues. Plus, my family is ridiculously good looking so we would probably be bombarded with requests to appear in movies, magazines and advertisements. So, I have included a picture from "The Muppet Family Christmas" instead. Here is my Christmas poem:

It all started with a scenic drive through Clifton Hill
The sky was clear and the temperature was unseasonably mild
And then we arrived at the house where the meal would be served
At the home of my sister who is great with child.

My mom cooked up a storm while my nephew repeated "Mama working"
The food was abundant and the room was filled with mirth
There were grammar lessons about "declination", "pedigree schools" and "betrothal"
My sister laughed so hard that I worried she would give birth.

We discovered that it is difficult to write fridge magnet messages
When there is only one set of letters to be found
We opened the presents and were surrounded by Thomas the Tank Engine(s)
Building block sky rises were constructed and "Babyzilla" knocked them down.

Digital cameras clicked and flashed and memories were captured
There were pictures of my sis's baby bump and Grandpa in a mountain of toys
An assembly line formed for dishes to be washed, dried and put away
As we half-joked about women's work and the laziness of boys.

The food was packed away and I fantasized about leftovers
And was excited to score a package of jumbo Romaine hearts
But the eating was far from over as there were platters of desserts
We were full but still managed to ingest nanaimo bars, squares and tarts.

My brother and his family had a two hour drive ahead
So we hugged goodbye and I promised to see them soon
And then my mom, dad, bro-in-law and sis brought my nephew up to bed
And we watched as he read bedtime stories in his "big boy room".

My nephew did not want to go to bed and requested story after story
My brother-in-law read the words and my nephew mimed the actions
When he saw an illustration of a woman in a kitchen he pointed and said "Mama"
I held back the tears and was overcome with love and affection.

And then it was time for mom and dad to say "Good bye"
My mom is the tiniest woman but she has the strongest hugs
Every year our family grows but one thing remains the same
Christmas is always a time for vast amounts of food and even more love.

Merry Christmas to my family. I love you all very much! And Merry Christmas to all of the families in the world.

Love,
Cherry

Driving Miss Cherry

2006-12-20T10:14:00.000-08:00

I don't drive. Whenever I reveal that information to people for the first time, I always get the feeling that they are waiting for a tragic story to follow. Perhaps I lost my license due to drinking and driving or I was in a huge car accident and am now too afraid to drive. But the simple truth is, I have never had a car. Owning a car has never been a priority to me. I did not get my license until I was 20. While I was in university, everything that I needed was accessible by public transportation or within walking distance. After university, I worked in retail and couldn't afford a car. When I moved to Toronto, the subway system was amazing. For a mere $2.50 I could travel from one end of the city to the other, at amazing speed!

But, upon moving to Niagara, travel became quite inconvenient. At one point, I would take the Greyhound bus to work every day. The drivers became familiar with me and were very nice. One driver would allow me to ride for free from time to time. Another driver went out of his way to tell me that he was changing bus routes and that it had been a pleasure to have me as his passenger. He was actually my favourite driver as he would talk on a microphone and act as a tour guide while driving over the Skyway bridge. (It got to the point where I had his speech memorized). One warm day in March he told me that I looked like "Spring Incarnate" (I had to look that one up).

Now that I live closer to work, I walk every day. I must admit that the public transportation system here really sucks. I find that I can walk to most places in the amount of time that it would take me to take a bus (including waiting time). I have trained my body to walk for hours without growing tired. But as time goes by, I realize that I am beginning to need and want a car.

My sister tells me that I am an ideal passenger. I am definitely not a back seat driver. We could be in a near accident and I wouldn't even notice. I think that it is simply that I trust people when I am in their vehicle.

I am a bit frightened by the idea of driving. One thing that frightens me about cars is that they can kill people and animals. I sometimes have dreams in which I am suddenly behind the wheel and I don't know what to do. They are very similar to my dreams about writing an exam that I haven't prepared for. In both cases, I know that I would be okay if I just practised and studied.

Everyone tells me that my life will change once I get a car. I am told that I will experience an amazing sense of freedom and independence. I have made a New Year's resolution to get my finances in order and get to a point where I am actually able to save money. And when I save that money, I am going to blow it on a car! It wouldn't be a great car, I wouldn't care what it looked like. I wonder if people ever give away cars on freecycle.org....

The Bashful Corpse

2006-12-18T18:59:00.000-08:00

I was introduced to www.postsecret.com by my blogger friend Hyacinths and Biscuits. It is a really interesting site in which people make postcards that reveal a secret that they have never told anyone. It is a bit voyeuristic, but also therapeutic. I really like the postcard that I have included above (I looked into the legalities of copying this image and it is fine as long as I include a link to the website). It reminds me of my own fears about death. Sometimes, when I am coming out of the shower, I am suddenly overcome by a fear that I will suddenly die and be found there, naked. I instantly panic and dry myself off and get dressed as quickly as possible. I know that this is completely irrational. I have watched enough episodes of "Six Feet Under" to know that when you die, people stick tubes in you, put make up on you and even make jokes while you are completely naked and there is nothing that you can do about it.

I once had an idea for a film where the main character dies in an embarrassing way and tries to go back in time to change the matter in which they died. They cannot change the fact that they are going to die, but they can try to alter the means of their demise. I know, it's a silly idea and that is why I don't care if someone steals it.

I really don't think about death that often. Actually, I sometimes forget that it is going to happen to me. I do believe that it is better to live your life than constantly worry about losing your life. But I do avoid taking showers during thunderstorms. You know, lightning + water + bathtub + naked = not a good thing.

This Charming Man

2006-12-17T19:02:00.000-08:00

I came across this picture of Morrissey (my whole life I have been pronouncing it "Morri-say", but it has recently been brought to my attention that it is actually "Morri-see". Oops!) and I found it to be quite humorous. For some reason I just can't imagine him making it a priority to "work on his tan". It really is a great photograph though. His hair is strategically coiffed, but he doesn't look very comfortable. Wouldn't it hurt to lie on your face with sunglasses on? Yes, he was definitely a novice to the sunbathing ritual.

But all of that time in the sun has not led to any premature aging. I truly believe that Morrissey becomes more attractive as the years go by (I feel the same way about David Bowie). Morrissey was one of the first musicians that I ever listened to that made me think that it was cool to be melancholy. I will always remember that scene in "Pretty In Pink" where Jon Cryer (Duckie) is sitting on a mattress on the floor and "Please, Please, Please, Let Me Get What I Want" is playing softly in the background. I remember being influenced by the "Meat Is Murder" album. I also remember a photograph in my "Star Hits" magazine of Morrissey holding an emaciated looking kitten. In the article Morrissey discussed vegetarianism and how his kitten was a vegetarian as well (I don't think that felines thrive on a vegetarian diet). So, I stopped eating meat for a while (but I still ate bacon, because for some reason I thought that didn't count).

Morrissey was my first celebrity boyfriend. We had a lot in common because he was celibate and I was celibate too! (Okay, I wasn't celibate by choice, but by necessity. Remember, only the geeks asked me to dance at highschool dances). He was the only person that I knew of that looked cool when he wore his shirt unbuttoned and had necklaces gleaming against his alabaster skin. That is a difficult look to pull off.

Today Morrissey wears tailored suits and his perfectly styled hair has some silver in it. His music is a bit lighter but it still has that tongue-in-cheek quality. I'd love to see him in concert. I'd also love to hear some Christmas music by him...I've looked for some but haven't found any.

Don't Compare Her To Tori Amos

2006-12-14T14:52:00.000-08:00

It seems that lately I can learn everything that I need to know by visiting Perez Hilton's website. Yesterday he posted about Regina Spektor's latest album. He included a video clip and I checked it out and really enjoyed her music. There was a link to her My Space (http://myspace.com/reginaspektor) where I found even more music and some really amazing videos. She is only in her mid 20's but she seems like an old soul. She lived in Moscow until the age of 9 and then her family moved to the Bronx. Her voice is charming and the camera loves her. Even her sadder songs have an air of optimism to them. Her lyrics are clever. Here are some that I really like (from the song "On The Radio"):

No, this is how it works
You peer inside yourself
You take the things you like
And try to love the things you took
And then you take that love you made
And stick it into some
Someone else's heart
Pumping someone else's blood
And walking arm in arm
You hope it don't get harmed
But even if it does
You'll just do it all again

I read an interview with her and in the interview she was wearing a stethoscope. The interviewer asked her why and she said that it was given to her by a friend and sometimes she wears it so that she can listen to her heart if she has to make an important decision. She also stated that she does not like to be compared to Tori Amos.

If you get a chance, take a look at her My Space, or her website at www.reginaspektor.com. I really love the video for "Samson". It has some beautiful stop animation of intricate paper cut outs. She is also wearing a really cool dress from 1910. Of course, you can also find her on YouTube, but you will also find videos of sad Femo girls playing her songs on the piano. Just skip over those if you can.

"I like your sleeves. They're really big".

2006-12-13T17:27:00.000-08:00

I came across this shot from "Napoleon Dynamite". I absolutely love that movie. There is such an innocence about it. This scene brings me back to my highschool years. I always got stuck dancing to "Stairway To Heaven" with the most undesirable boy in my class(there were many of them to choose from, so it wasn't always the same one). To this day, I can't hear that song without feeling a bit uncomfortable. But I still remember the excitement of the highschool dance. The smell of heavy cologne ("Polo" in those days and the occasional "Stetson"), the darkness of the gymnasium and the pounding in my chest when I thought that a highschool senior was walking up to me to ask me to dance.

Those were awkward days, but I can still identify with the person that I was. (Except that I don't see things the same way. For example, I can see out of my right eye now because I don't have long 80's bangs impeding my vision). Actually, when I write this blog, I am always reminded of the diary that I kept when I was 16. The next time that I visit my parents I am going to try to find that diary (I think that it is still in my old room). Maybe I will incorporate quotes from it in my blog. Me at 16 would shudder to imagine people reading my most personal thoughts. But I won't include the thoughts and fears that I can still identify with. But I am sure to find a lot of humour in those pages, as well as stories of highschool dances.

Shake Your Groove Thang!

2006-12-13T14:14:00.000-08:00

Last night I went to my work Christmas Party. Whenever a danceable song came on, I wanted to get on the dance floor, but the girls at my table kept saying "I haven't had enough to drink. Maybe in a bit". There was a time when I needed to have a couple of drinks before I danced in public, but now, I rarely drink so I am quite accustom to making a fool of myself in a sober state. So, I kept sipping my water and waiting for my dance partners to gain some liquid courage. Finally we got up there and I was feelin' the music! (Okay, we were dancing to some cheesy Justin Timberlake song, but it didn't matter). My sister (who was sober as well as she is nine months pregnant) was working it, baby bump and all! I was impressed. She was impressed with my moves as well and I informed her that I have been watching a lot of Beyonce videos on YouTube. I'm trying to perfect my hip and butt shake.There was a huge video screen over the dance floor and a camera following people around. I looked up at the screen at one point and saw myself dancing. I was like a deer in the headlights. It was like when you hear your voice on a recording. You just can't believe that that is you (and not in a good way). I looked away from the screen and tried to continue to dance but whenever I looked up, I realized that the camera was still on me. I know that you are supposed to dance like no one is watching but I felt really self conscious at that moment. Once the camera was off of me, I was able to get in the groove again.

I guess I have always had a fear that I might be like Elaine on Seinfeld. She thought that she was a good dancer, but obviously she wasn't. I'll always remember her protesting "But I really like dancing". Maybe I should stop watching Beyonce videos and start watching the dance sequence from Napoleon Dynamite over and over again.

Faces You Should Never Make

2006-12-10T20:14:00.000-08:00

I was looking through some of my pictures and came across this one. My sister is on the left and I am on the right. My sister always looks good in pictures. I, on the other hand, not so much. This used to be my "mock modelling" face until I saw what it looked like. It is supposed to be a sultry pout, but it looks more like collagen injections gone wrong. Perez Hilton would have fun with this picture if I were a celebrity. He would probably draw stuff dripping out of my mouth and put a balloon over my sister and have her saying "I'm with FUG".

Perez Hilton rocks!

Can you tell that I didn't know what to post today?

Song for A Creepy Winter's Evening

2006-12-05T18:37:00.000-08:00

One of my favourite Christmas songs is "Baby It's Cold Outside". I also like the scene in the movie "Elf", where the shop girl finds herself in an unexpected duet with the Elf, singing "Baby It's Cold Outside". If you remember the movie, Zooey Deschanel's character is showering at work because her hot water has been shut off at her apartment. She is singing that song in the shower and Will Ferrell's character walks into the washroom and innocently sings along with her. She is rightfully creeped out by the whole situation (although the Elf is naive and means no harm). While listening closely to this song, I realized that there is a real creep factor to it. It is a song about a guy trying to talk a girl into staying at his house. She says that she will have half a drink more and he advises her to "put some records on while I pour". It appears that he does not want her to watch him pour her drink. Why? Well, the answer comes in the next verse when she asks "Say, what's in this drink?" and he responds "No cabs to be had out there". What did he put in her drink? Hmmmm.

She warms up to him a bit, but says "I wish I knew how to break this spell". She is probably referring to that groggy feeling. She then says "I ought to say 'No,no,no sir'. At least I'm gonna say that I tried". She is already planning to tell her friends that she tried to resist him. Oh, so maybe she isn't so innocent after all. Maybe she is welcoming his advances but plans to accuse him of taking advantage of her later on. Okay, so they are both creeps. At the end of the song the guy basically says that if she leaves, she might die. "If you caught pneumonia and died". Wow, that's desperate.

I was looking for the lyrics to the song and I found these. For some reason, I don't think that they are accurate:

my maidins anuts mind is fecouis
(GOSH ur lips are delicous)

theres boud to be talk 2 morrow
(think of my life long sorrow!)
atleast there be plenty of invised!
(if U caught PHONEUA and DIED!!)

For real! That is what I found on one site. But I also discovered some interesting facts about the song. It was originally performed by Betty Garrett and Red Skelton in the film "Neptune's Daughter". It won the Academy Award for best song in 1949.

That is the end of this lengthy post. I haven't posted in a few days so I guess I had a lot to say!

ps. I still like that song...even if it is creepy!

Lost In Translation

2006-11-30T18:15:00.000-08:00

Today I was walking down Victoria Ave. in Niagara Falls and I saw four sweet Asian ladies huddling together on the sidewalk. They were probably in their late forties. One of the women approached me and asked me if I speak Japanese. I said that I did not. She then said "Ou est le Seven Eleven?" (I guess she thought that I would speak French for some reason). I told her that it would be a bit of a walk, but to keep walking straight ahead and it would be on their right. I walked with them for a bit since that was the direction that I was going, but eventually I had to cross the street to start heading home. After I had crossed the street and walked a couple of blocks, I turned around and noticed that the four women were following me. They had taken a wrong turn and were way off course for the Seven Eleven (I also wondered why they wanted Seven Eleven. We had passed a couple of generic convenience stores. Maybe they were craving some tasty taquitos. I can't blame them!) They were too far away for me to yell to them that they were going the wrong way and I was too tired (and wearing way too uncomfortable shoes) to walk in their direction to redirect them. I walked home and half expected them to knock on my door within five minutes but it didn't happen.

I felt responsible for them. I had been a horrible Ambassador. It was raining and they didn't even have umbrellas. I thought about it for quite a while (I am still thinking about it now obviously) and all that I can hope is that they found someone that could speak Japanese (or French?).

What A Classy Broad!

2006-11-29T16:40:00.000-08:00

It appears that Britney Spears has been revealing her private parts quite often lately. (Like, I think about 3 times in five days!). It is rumoured that it is a ploy for media attention, but I have a different theory. It's quite simple really. She has been spending a lot of time with Paris Hilton and maybe she didn't pack enough underwear. All I know is, if I had a choice between going commando or borrowing a pair of Paris Hilton's underwear, I would have to go without underwear. Even if they had been washed in boiling hot water, bleach and then perused under a microscope by a biologist!

Or maybe Britney was stopped on her way home from the laundromat and someone offered her $10 for a pair of her underwear and she sold them all. No, I don't think that she needs the money. But I am sure that K-Fed would gladly sell some of his boxers for some extra cash.

Hair Tattoos

2006-11-28T20:25:00.000-08:00

I had this strange idea today and I'm not worried about telling people because I don't think that anyone will want to steal it. I got the idea when I was on the bus and I saw a salon that advertised "Body Tattoos". I thought "Duh, where else would you put a tattoo?" and then, it came to me...the Hair Tattoo!

It would work best on longer hair. The hair would be permanently marked with a tattoo needle and ink. The beauty of it would be that you would not experience any pain. When you grew tired of the hair art, you could cut it off and even frame it to keep as a memento of your BAD ASS days. People with darker hair would have to use very bright colours, or simply white designs. I googled "Hair Tattoos" and so far all that I have been able to find are crimping techniques or glitter.

Then I thought about Teeth Tattoos. That would be interesting. I could also branch out into the "temporary" versions of this art for those who would like a change, but wouldn't want anything permanent. Of course, hair does grow so these tattoos would never be permanent.

I am trying to be creative with my images here, but I admit that I need some help. The picture above simply serves as a representation of this "invention". Bionic Buddha! Help me!

Summer Memories

2006-11-27T18:50:00.000-08:00

I once worked with a girl named Summer and she was truly the epitome of her name. She had golden hair and sea blue eyes and she was always radiant. She was very shy at first and her mouth was always in a natural downwards pout, so it was difficult to read her. I shared an office with her and one day I was feeling really down and she sent me an E-card with dancing cats on it. We hadn't really opened up to each other yet, but once I received that card, I felt that this was someone that I could trust. She had a wicked sense of humour and wasn't afraid to make fun of herself. She also had an incredible singing voice and crazy dance moves. She would get nervous if she had to speak in front of people and her face would turn red. I will always remember sitting on a bench with her in front of the St. Lawrence Market. A man had asked us to watch his dog while he went inside. When he disappeared for over twenty minutes, we didn't know what to do. Our lunch hour was over, so we returned to our office and watched from the window for him to return. (Luckily our building was right beside the St. Lawrence Market). We exchanged nervous glances and both breathed a sigh of relief when the owner finally approached the bench to fetch his pet. When we would talk about boys, she always stressed the importance of self-respect and to never settle for someone who didn't treat you the way that you deserved to be treated.

The company that we worked for downsized and we began to work for different companies. In the last email that I received from her she informed me that she had met a great guy. They were spending the summer weekends at his family's cottage. She spoke of midnight swims and talks by the fire. I was very happy for her. That was six years ago.

I recently received an email from a coworker from that company. I asked for an update of our old friends. He informed me that Summer had passed away two years ago. She had cancer. My heart sunk. She was younger than me. She was the epitome of youth and beauty. Summer had crossed my mind over the years and it was confusing and painful to discover that she had been gone for the last two years. She hadn't been experiencing the things that I had hoped and imagined for her, such as marriage and motherhood.

I will always remember that E-card and her own personal message: "I'm sorry that you are sad. If you don't want to talk about it, that's okay. I just want you to know that I am here if you need me". That simple gesture from across a cubicle, a message sent to a person that she barely knew, that is how I will always remember Summer.

Mice In The Aisles

2006-11-26T17:22:00.000-08:00

There is a store that I frequent in order to procure staple items such as soap, paper towels, orange juice and cat food. I will not name the establishment as I do not want to be sued for writing this. I made a disturbing discovery there today. Firstly, whenever I walk down aisle 14, I smell the most horrific odour. At first I blamed it on the occasional scummy-num in the store, but I realized that there can't always be a smelly person in aisle 14. It is the smell of decay and rot. I have grown accustom to this odour so I just hold my breath and grab my can of tuna or soup (as this is the canned goods aisle). Today I was looking at a bag of pasta in another aisle. I was hesitant about buying this product as the bag had a film on it. Then I realized that the shelf was covered in rodent droppings.

I notified the stock boy about my discovery. I also told him that aisle 14 always has the smell of death in it. He replied "Oh, that's probably just a regular smell". I said "No, I think that something has died and is rotting, maybe a mouse?" He said "Yeah, that wouldn't surprise me. Thanks for letting me know" and walked away. I later saw him flirting with the girl at the cash register. She was asking him how much he made as a stock boy. He proudly stated "$10.40 an hour".

Actually, that's more than I thought he would make. I guess at that rate of pay, it may be beneath him to clean up mouse droppings and rodent corpses.

Baby It's Warm Outside

2006-11-25T19:35:00.000-08:00

Today was a gorgeous day. I walked down to the Falls, for the first time since I have moved here. I saw people who had travelled from other countries to view this great marvel and I realized that I can come here whenever I want. I take the Falls for granted, almost like I would a bird bath in my back yard. But, it really is amazing.

On a different note, I had a really strange dream this morning. I find that my strangest dreams occur when I wake up in the morning and then decide to go back to sleep for a couple of hours. I dreamt that I was visiting my parents and I went to their bedroom to use the washroom. Their bedroom had two double beds in it like you would see in a hotel room. The bedspreads were verigated, accordian-like satin. I pulled the sheets back and ,built into the mattress, was a toilet. I knew that it would be there, but I remember thinking, this can't be a good idea...Who wants to sleep where people relieve themselves?

And then I woke up.

Computers Give You Pimples!

2006-11-23T20:21:00.000-08:00

I have had my computer for about a month and I find that I have had the worst complexion since I got it. It is like I am turning into a stereotypical computer nerd! My beauty regime hasn't changed. My diet hasn't changed (Oh, except for the daily dose of mini chocolate bars I had for the week after Hallowe'en). I don't know what's going on....

W.W.R.D.? (What Would Rojelio Do?)

Babooshka

2006-11-22T19:15:00.000-08:00

I was born in Canada and so were my parents, but my last name is Hungarian, so I consider my heritage to be Hungarian (I am actually half Hungarian, a quarter Belgian and a quarter Scottish). All things Hungarian comfort me...the food, the language and the music. It reminds me of spending time with my grandparents. My grandfather would make his own wine and he encouraged my sister and I to take a shot of it (I remember this when I was 9 years old). It was very strong and I secretly held it in my mouth and went outside to spit it out so as not to offend my grandpa. When I hear people speaking Hungarian I am reminded of feeling sleepy at family gatherings and resting my eyes as I sat on the couch while the adults spoke. I can not speak Hungarian. I took lessons when I was eight and then again when I was sixteen, but it never stuck. It is a very difficult language to learn. My old Russian landlord (strange, he has come to mind twice in my blogs so far) could speak eight languages and he said that Hungarian was the most difficult for him to learn. I remember some songs, but when I sing them for Hungarian people, no one understands what I am saying.

My grandmother was an amazing cook. Everything she made was very heavy and greasy, but it was wonderful. Sometimes my sister and I would go to my grandparents' house after school. It would be 3:00pm and she would have a six course meal waiting for us. I am pretty sure that she thought that we weren't allowed to eat at school. I ate everything that she gave me to the point of vomition. I will always remember getting to the sixth course (chocolate cake) and suddenly getting up from the table to run to the bathroom to be sick. She stopped me and cupped her hands in front of herself and said "In my hands child". I didn't know what to do, so I regurgitated chocolate cake into her hands. Strange memories, but true.

I have never been to Hungary, but I would like to go. First I would like to learn how to speak the language, as at this time, all that I know are a few swear words, "please", "thank you", "come here", "little" and some songs that I thought were about butterflies.

Are Vintage Fur Coats Cruel?

2006-11-21T21:30:00.000-08:00

I have a weakness for vintage coats. I love the quality of the wool, the unique buttons and the cursive writing on the huge satiny labels that are sewn in the coat. I have a really cool red suede coat with dome closures. I also have a black wool coat with a mink collar ("male mink" as my old Russian landlord once pointed out to me. He claimed that the male minks have the most beautiful fur). I also have an alpaca coat with a llama fur collar. I would never purchase a brand new fur coat, but I have always been able to rationalize a vintage fur coat. The way that I look at it is, I am not investing in the fur trade. The first owner bought the coat from a furrier, not I. Also, it is not fresh animal hide that I am wearing. Some of my coats are probably older than I am! And I am saving the environment by ensuring that these coats do not end up in a landfill.

I can see how I am in the wrong by wearing these coats. Perhaps when people admire the coats that I am wearing, it encourages them to purchase a brand new fur coat. That would make me sad.

I would like to hear your opinions on this matter. Maybe Rojelio could provide her ideas about this topic!

Gilberto Alfonso Ribiero

2006-11-20T19:27:00.000-08:00

This is the story of Gilberto Alfonso Ribiero. Most people know him as Gilbert. He is a tabby cat that I rescued from an alley about a year and a half ago. There is an alley near my office where someone has set up a feeding station for stray cats. There are boxes lined with carpet and bowls of food and water. I am told that a woman fills those bowls every morning. I always knew that this place existed, but I tried not visit, as I worried that I would grow attached to one of these felines and feel compelled to bring one, or three, home with me. One day I decided to bring some soft canned food to these creatures, as a treat. It was then that I met Gilbert. He was the only cat that was tame enough to approach me. His one eye was sealed shut with puss and he coughed constantly. But he loved to be pet. I began to visit him every day, on the way to work and on the way home. Some days he would just lie there while I pet him. He didn't have the energy to stand. I decided to call the Humane Society in the hope that he could be rescued. They informed me that since he was ill, they would euthanize him. They would come and take him but I would have to be there to restrain him as they will not take free roaming cats. I then called the vet and explained his condition. They informed me that he would probably need some antibiotics but his chances of survival were good.

I continued to visit him every day. Some days his condition improved. He began to try to follow me to work. One morning, on my way to the alley, I saw Gilbert happily approach a man on the street. I saw the man move him out of the way with his boot. It was then that I decided that Gilbert couldn't live on the street anymore. A coworker saw me carrying him towards a cab, and she offered to give me a ride to the vet. The technicians were amazed at how friendly this stray cat was. They ran blood tests, gave him a flea treatment, prescribed antibiotics for his eye and chest infection and watched him overnight. The next day I was informed that I could bring him home. He had a speedy recovery in a warm apartment. A week later I brought him back for a follow up examination and the vet informed me that he had made a 100% recovery. He also told me that Gilbert appeared to be part Belgian tabby.

I wrote a letter to the woman that feeds the cats. I left it under a food bowl in the alley. In the letter I thanked her for her kindness and informed her that the friendly tabby with the infected eye and cough had a new home and was a wonderful pet. I returned to the alley and found the letter unopened beside the bowl. She had been there to fill the bowls, but she didn't take the letter (I even addressed it to "The person that feeds the cats"). I never returned to the alley. Sometimes I walk past it and remember the days when Gilbert would be standing there, waiting for me.

He still likes to be outside, but he knows when it is time for breakfast and always comes home. I have to call him, and I have to call him by his full name or he doesn't respond. "Gilberto Alfonso Ribiero!" Sometimes you just have to follow your heart...

Luvin' the Laundromat

2006-11-19T19:04:00.000-08:00

So, I have moved to a new city and I am adjusting to things. So far, I like my apartment but I'm not too fond of the city. But, I'm luvin' the laundromat!

I'll tell you a bit about it. There are a couple of salt water aquariums and some tropical birds. There is a Beretta style bird (sorry, I am not sure of what they are called) and his name is Kiki and he always flirts with me. I also like the love bird named Georgie. There is a parrot too, but I think that he has some psychological problems because all that he ever does is squawk and hide his head behind his mirror. The television is always playing a movie that you would watch on a lazy Sunday. The owner is charismatic. Today he asked me"What's up, what's new, what's goin' on?" He does not tolerate it when people leave their laundry unattended. If your washer or dryer stops and you aren't there to claim it in 5 minutes, he takes it out so that other people can use it. The dryers are set high which is great (I wanted to compliment the owner on that, but I am afraid that he will realize that he could make more money if he turned them down a bit).

The clientele are pretty friendly too. I have only been grossed out by a couple of them, which is good, since I can be grossed out quite easily. Yes, this laundromat is much better than the one that I frequented in St. Catharines. At that laundromat I had some creepy guy steal my undergarments from the dryer. I didn't realize that it was happening until another customer pointed it out to me. At that moment, it all began to make sense as I remembered his face from another occasion where he actually followed me home from the laundromat and asked me, at the stoplight, if he could buy a pair of my underwear for $10.00. I ran all the way home and he disappeared.When I think about it, that guy probably owes me about $50.00!

Yes, there are a lot of creeps in this world. But if you can find a laundromat that you like, all seems right with the world.

Couch Coupling

2006-11-16T18:00:00.000-08:00

At first I thought that it was just my imagination, but, on my way to work in the mornings, I have noticed a couch by the sidewalk in front of a building. The strange thing about it is that the couch changes. One day it will have a green fabric, the next it will be stripped down to its stuffing and the next day, it will have floral upholstery. It appears as though someone is throwing it out. Now, how many couches can these people have? And why is it a different one every few days?

Now, today, I witnessed the strangest phenomenon. As I approached the same building, I saw the couch....and a loveseat. They were not a match, they had different upholstery. It was more like one was the mother and one was the child. I think that deep in the night, another couch came along and impregnated the first couch. I kid you not!! I will start taking pictures, (not of the couches fornicating) and then you will believe me.

I don't even believe it....Perhaps I am going insane.

Water Parks & Swiss Chalet

2006-11-15T18:17:00.000-08:00

There are two things in life that people get really excited about that I will never understand...Swiss Chalet and Water Parks! I really don't get it. You might as well just soak in a cess pool of germs with some crazy "special sauce".

G-ross, as a friend of mine would say;)

Is That What I Look Like?

2006-11-15T18:10:00.000-08:00

Today, I was walking to work, deep in thought. When suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, I saw someone making movements in a doorway. I looked and it was a little Asian man, laughing and marching on the spot, stiffly, like Frankenstein. He looked at me and said "I sorry...I be you. hee. hee". I said, "That's okay" and smiled and kept walking. But, inside, I was mortified. He was imitating me and was that what I really looked like? I'll admit that I wasn't wearing my most comfortable shoes....

This little experience reminds me of one of my drama classes in university. I was playing a character who was suppose to enter the room, sexily. The director stopped the scene and said "I'm sorry, but you walk like a farmer". I responded in the only way that I could, "That's because I am a farmer".

What's Your Handle?

2006-11-14T20:34:00.000-08:00

In case you were wondering, Cherry is short for Cherry Blossom, my first CB handle. I grew up in rural Ontario in the 70's and CB's were our cell phones. My dad was Big Wheels, my mom was Flower Child, my sister was J-Bug and my brother was Little Wheels.

My brother was a teenager then and my parents never had to worry about him tying up the phone line, because he was able to talk to all of his friends, simultaneously, on the CB. My dad always would get a good laugh out of me arranging to meet truckers at the local drinking hole. (I was only eight). I would put on a southern drawl and say"This is Cherry Blossom here. I'll meet you at the Courtland Hotel at 7:30 and I'll be the pretty little thing in the pink sweater".

Of course, I never met with the truckers...it was all in good fun. Then, I'd go back to making shot gun bullets for my dad. Ah, the memories of growing up in a small town.