Back

Hi everyone. I'm back. Did you notice I was away? I was in Florida. At a conference. I know, I know...a conference that just happened to be at Clearwater Beach, Florida -- in February. I would have wanted to go even if it were in Winnipeg. Not!

Here are some random discoveries I made on my trip:

1) I met an autistic dog.
2) I saw a mother and baby dolphin jumping in unison.
3) You can get a really really sharp seashell through security, but they'll take your tweezers.
4) Florida is foreclosure hell right now and Floridians are scared shitless about the economy, even ones driving BMWs.
5) There is no fifth.

Witness

Winter Break-ups

OK. Here's a nice pre-Valentine's Day topic: winter break-ups. Lately, I've heard about what seems like a lot of folks either separating or in the palliative care stage of the relationship. When I hear about this, I think to myself, "Wow, these folks managed to muster up the energy to break up during a long, cold, Ottawa winter...with the bus strike and everything!" I have a lot of admiration for these people because, despite all these obstacles, they have the energy and the courage to make a move, throw themselves into transition, uncertainty, grief, etc...Kudos to all of you for breaking up right now! I know there is the well-documentedFish or Cut Bait Day, but, even so...breaking up in winter is damn hard. I couldn't do it. I'll hunker down in any old crappy relationship just to survive the damn winter.
So, to all you winter break-up folks, screw Valentine's Day! My roses go to you.

Houseguests, crap, continued...

A small turd was discovered on the floor by the door. And someone stepped in it. So, it was a small smushed turd. Again, not sure which cat is protesting. Perhaps both.
I'm a barely-standing-ragdoll now, washing sheets and towels, in preparation for two, no, three more sets of houseguests. Then, I leave town on Sunday and will be a houseguest myself for a couple of days.
Here are some tips on how to be a stellar houseguest:
1) don't complain
2) say thank you
3) use only one towel
4) bring food and drink if possible
5) don't start drinking before noon
6) take a nap, a walk, or read sometimes
7) take care of your needs
8) help clean up
9) bring a present
10) be nice

Do you have other tips?

Houseguests and Crap

Something must be going on in the universe this weekend. Mercury must be out of retrograde. Or Venus is trining Uranus. Our place is crawling with houseguests. I'm hauling every camping mattress I can find out the basement, and clearing floor surfaces, trying to figure out where I can lay people out.
In the midst of this houseguest deluge, and while dischevelled man was giving our first round of guests a house tour, there was a shocking discovery: one of our cats CRAPPED right in the middle of a bed. We're not sure which cat did it. But the large amount of crap suggests that it was the adult cat. I'm not sure why he would do this. Some possible theories here:

1) The cat is freaked out about the number of people coming in.
2) The cat is finally trying to tell us that he is not happy about the arrival of Ti-gris.
3) The cat was sick, and just had a once-in-lifetime unfortunate accident.
4) The cat is trying to tell us that he hates us.
5) It wasn't the cat at all, but one of the houseguests.

Lying for the Story

A work friend today told me that she believes that an extremely high-ranking person (EHRP) in our organization lies regularly during her public addresses because she needs a good story. According to my work friend, she tells witty lies for the purpose of entertaining her underlings. When my work friend mentioned this today, it rang true. It rang true because EHRP's stories don't really ring true. The reason they don't ring true is because in these stories, EHRP just happens to be present when a famous person is around and she just happens to witness the famous person saying or doing something witty. So, there is name-dropping going on, too. I was so distracted by the name-dropping, that I didn't notice the lying. But when the lying was pointed out to me, I got it. There is no word for name-dropping and lying at the same time, is there?

I'm in love with Robin

I love a lot of bloggers out there, but this week I have to say kudos to Robin whose work is consistently beautiful. This photo brought tears to my eyes. I wish I could write a poem, an ode to this piece. Thank you, Robin, for showing us the beauty in slush.

Versailles Academy

I went to the Versailles Academy today for a facial and a pedicure, and it was GREAT! Highly recommended. No need to go to any other spa in Ottawa. This is what I loved about it:
1) I love the name! I loved saying "I'm off to the Versailles Academy".
2) It's CHEAP because they are beauty students and are learning.
3) I had 3 sweet young things working on me --one on each foot, and one on the face. They were polite, competent, and spoke to me in whispery voices.
4) They are supervised by the beauty teacher who came over and told the young woman working on my face that I had "normal skin" because my pores were neither too big nor too small.
5) I liked that I was half naked in a warehouse-like room full of strangers.
6) I liked that immediately after my relaxing spa experience, I could go next door and buy perogies and poppyseed cake for dinner.

Spooning

Being Right

I've been frustrated lately in my dealings with a person who always needs to be right. After some insomniac ruminations last night, it occurred to me that if I'm reacting to Mr. Needs-to-Be-Right I must also need to be right. Or, at least I must be attached to the idea that I'm "righter".

Newflash: I'm in a New Blog!

Just when I thought I was giving up blogging, I've decided to take on a third. Everyone needs THREE blogs, right? My latest blog deals solely with Extreme Crafting. You can find it here. Not a lot of content so far, but you will get the idea what it's all about from our manifesto.

Perfume stench

A question for all you know-it-alls out there: I just bought a beautiful beaded necklace at Neighbourhood Services. Problem is it has serious perfume stench. How do I get perfume stench out of it? Or, should I just dispose of it immediately?

gray cats

More on Winter Drinking

A very important observation I made this week to follow up on the winter drinking theme:

It's really important to stay hydrated during these winter months. Don't forget to drink WATER. It's dry. Heating systems are sucking the life right out of us. And if you do any kind of physical movement at all (skating, skiing, shagging), rehydrate yourself, folks! You may think you are suffering from seasonal affective disorder (SAD), but you probably just aren't drinking enough water.

And, while you're drinking your water, you can watch this.

Winter Drinking

For economical winter drinking, I highly recommend investing in a bottle of port. It's fun to drink it out of a special port glass. So you might need to buy one of those, too. Makes you feel classy. You can get a cheap bottle and drink it all week. It helps.

Books/Inspiration needed

I asked for inspirational reading from my blog readership last year and got all kinds of wonderful suggestions.

I'm looking again, folks!

Here are the categories I'm looking for (and the bloggers who might be able to help me out)

environment/environmental justice (Milan? -- can you help me out with this one?)

crafting (Zoom? But please don't make it a knitting book!)

kitten training (Mintyfresh? Please?)

self-help (any of the Irregulars)

general inspiration (XUP? Megan? Stella? Also a Talker? Man of Science? Better Half? Skylark? Tiana? Bob?)

I'm a little bit desperate here folks.

Two New Blogs I'm Reading

Happy New Year! I'll bring in the new year with two new blogs. One I discovered at the One of a Kind Craft Sale at Lansdowne Park. I was working there for a friend, Erik Tardif, an incredible artist and craftsman, who just moved to the region. The blog I discovered is not Erik's, though; he doesn't blog. The blog I am recommending belongs to a sharp Quebecoise named France Arsenault who does crazy things with felting and wool. I loved her work and bought two items from her which I will post later. She doesn't blog regularly, but I hope she will. She has great links off of her blog, too, which have provided me with lots of inspiration.
The second blog I'm enjoying belongs to this California mom. You all know how I don't usually enjoy mommy blogs, but this one is pleasant. And the great thing is that she provides warnings if she feels the need to talk about poop.

My life is rich with blogworthy material, but....

I can't. The blogworthiness is all happening in the work realm. I can't afford to get dooced.
Woodsy has suggested I write the stuff down in a private notebook, and then blog about it later....like in two years or so.
In my crafting life, I am busy making potholders. Everyone is getting potholders for Christmas this year. Everyone needs potholders, right?

This one goes out to the knitters....

What does one do with unfinished knitting projects? I am a shitty knitter. It is not my medium. I need a sewing machine or something with a motor to drive me to the finish line. The meditative click click of the knitting needles doesn't work for me. I get fed up and throw the whole project to the side. I have a large box in my basement labelled "Unfinished knitting projects to do in your retirement"...A friend of mine wrote that on the box when I was moving.

Here are some of the unfinished projects:
1) A baby blanket in lovely white and yellow cotton yarn. The "baby" this blanket was intended for is now a smoking/swearing teenager.
2) A throw in autumn colours, also in cotton yarn. This one is almost finished. One of the problems is I lost the pattern. I have no idea how to finish the thing. I worked many many hours on this project, one dark and desperate winter years ago.
3) A red mohair scarf. This one was intended for a former mother-in-law. It never got cast off, unlike the relationship.
4) A brownish orange sweater. I didn't get very far on this one. Nice pattern, though. I think I still have it.
5) A blue wool sock. I never managed to turn the heel. This was the obstacle.

Despite all of these failures, I've started a new scarf. Already, I'm hating it! The wool is beautiful alpaca. There is no reason why I should be hating this so much. Why do I keep coming back to knitting when I hate it? What do I do with all of these unfinished projects?

Sunday Update

I haven't completely given up blogging. Clearly, this is because I'm still getting something out of it. I love getting comments from you readers. After some reflection, I thought in this weekly update, I'd be a little more directive with you about my current needs, so that I could optimize on your inspirational and supportive comments. Here goes:

1) The internet is still destroying my brain. I'm now playing Scramble with XUP which is fun because she is not as skilled as Zoom who continues to kick my ass. What I'm trying to say is - XUP, please continue to support me by losing in Scramble. Zoom, I'm not going to play with you anymore, because it is damaging to my self-esteem.
2) My workplace is completely dysfunctional, and I can't blog about this. Let's just say I'm not empowered. I do need your encouragement, though. Generic workplace encouragement required. Refer to the motivational literature if necessary. I'm open to anything right now.
3) I'm not as stressed out this week thanks to the bucketfuls of St. John's Wort I've been ingesting. The stuff works, folks. No need for comments on this one.
5) I attended a Quaker wedding this week. It was beautiful in its non-ceremony, and interesting, but I discovered I couldn't be a Quaker because a) all the silence makes me uncomfortable; b) I like a bit more structure; c) I don't like the idea of opening the floor to just anyone. No need to comment on this one. I like the Quakers and my opinion here really means shit.
6) I'm getting another cat in the new year, and I'm looking for a really bloggable one, but not one that will pee in my bed. Suggestions?
7) I want to win a trip somewhere warm, and I would like people to send me contests I could participate in. Thanks.

Ok. That's the weekly update with directions for comments. Thank you in advance.

I think the internet wrecked my brain

I'm convinced that I'm more scattered and fragmented since the internet took over my brain. Today I sat down to "work" on the computer. The "work" part lasted about 30 minutes (if that). The rest of the time was spent doing things like ....

1) playing Scramble. Zoom continues to kick my ass. I think I'm getting better, though. No wonder. I'm a fucking addict!
2) reading all the blogs of those who attended the Blogger Brunch. Interesting reading.
3) checking out the FlicKr sites of random people I don't know or care about. Not even worth commenting on.
4) reading news from 4 news sources. The financial outlook is still grim. There is snow in certain areas.
5) googling slow cooker chili con carne recipes. There are tons.
6) checking into the YMCA membership rates. Not bad.
7) checking out the Ottawa Humane Society website to see if there is a little brother or sister available for my cat. None that I really really like at the moment.
8) trying to find the 5th Muse's new blog. No luck.
9) looking up "feline irritable bowel syndrome". The experts don't have much to offer.
10) doing the "what kind of board game are you test" on Zoom's blog. I'm chess.

Anyway, you get the idea. None of this random surfing is very enriching. I wish I had spent a very focussed time "working". Then, I wish I had done more meaningful things like exercise, reading, crafting, shagging. Any of these activities would have been better for my brain. How are the rest of you dealing with the mind suck of the internet? Help!

Rock On

Have any of you seen these "Zen Garden" rocks that you write on? I went to a women's party last night because one of my friends is getting married (again). We were asked to write something inspirational on one of the rocks to put in her Zen garden. People wrote all kinds of wise and inspirational stuff, including "resilience", which I think is a good attitude to take towards life, love and marriage. I started obsessing a bit about my own lack of resilience. Then, I had a horrible case of writer's block, and started to freak out because I had nothing to write on the rock. I'm lacking inspiration these days in a serious way. I came up with a few inappropriate things to write, like "Don't let your atavar get caught with her pants down."
One of the women in the group talked about a research study she read about successful marriages vs. non-successful marriages. The finding was that the folks in successful marriages engaged more even in the most banal conversation. For example - She says, "I really like this blueberry jam". He says, "Oh, really? What do you like about it, honey?" The non-successful marriage exchange would go more like this: She says, "I really like this raspberry jam". He says...absolutely nothing. Sorry, I don't have a source for this study. If I find it, I'll let you know.
Anyway, finally, after several gulps of red wine, it came to me what to write. I found a small, smooth round rock and wrote -- "rock on!". And I'm giving that little nugget of inspiration to myself as well.

Newsflash: I went to church!

I grew up in a religious home. Like a lot of lapsed Christians, I figure I have had enough religion for a lifetime. On Sunday mornings, I prefer to do other things: sleep, shag, read, go for brunch, crafts, a walk in the woods, you name it.
Yesterday, I went to church for the first time in a long, long time. I went because my parents were visiting, and they wanted to go to church. They asked me to recommend a church - either Catholic or Anglican. I had no idea where to send them -- because I don't go to church. Then, I decided to send them to the gay-friendly Anglican church on Elgin St.: St. John the Evangelist. Since I was sending them there, I decided I would check it out myself -- mainly so that I could blog about it!

I recommend this place if you are looking for a spiritual home in the city. Here is what I liked about it:

1) The minister Dana Fisher is really great. She stands out on the street wearing a cape and greets people. She's funny and a bit edgy.
2) The music Director, Gordon Johnstone, kicks ass. He gets beautiful sounds out of the choir, he plays the organ like the devil himself, and he plays the harp like an angel.
3) There's an interesting mix of folks at this church -- some look like standard WASPS. Others look more rock n' roll.
4) They do good community work at this church.
5) Congregation members were invited to stand up to make announcements at the end of the service. One guy stood up and talked about setting up a worm composter in the basement. There were a lot of wacky announcements and eccentricity happening there. Great stuff!

Reasons I'm not planning to attend regularly:

1) The service is too long. I can't sit on a hard bench that long.
2) The common cup kind of freaks me out.
3) The Children's Sermon annoys the shit out of me.
4) I have other things I like to do at 10:15 a.m. on Sunday mornings.
5) Did I mention that I had enough religion in my childhood for an entire lifetime?

Black Wardrobe

Some easy halloween costume ideas

1) go as the Green Shift. Easy. Just wear a green shift.

2) go as "up shit creek without a paddle". Easy. Wear brown clothing, a life jacket, and don't carry a paddle.

3) go as Todd Palin. (Everyone is going to be Sarah). Easy. Wear a skidoo suit and any hoser gear you have lying around the house.

4) go as a "work-in-progress". Easy. Different options here. Stick an empty frame around your head. Or, wrap yourself in one of your unfinished art projects.

5) no fifth costume idea.

Margaret Cho at the NAC + Liam Sullivan

I had the privilege of seeing Margaret Cho at the NAC last night. She's really something. Lots of sex talk which I discovered is a really positive way to start your week. And, the woman can do anything...I mean ANYTHING with a microphone. I was impressed.
Some highlights of the evening:
1) Her rant about Sarah Palin: How much she hates her, and yet how much she'd like to f- her. Nice. I guess we've all thought this? This is what comedians do, right? Tell us what we we've already thought... I hadn't actually thought about bedding Sarah Palin until she put it in my mind. It's now in my fantasy repertoire. Thanks, Margaret!
2) Her key to a successful marriage: F* as many people as you can. It takes a village to.... You get the picture. I'm not married, but I'm not convinced. I agree with the village part, but do we really need to screw them all? But, again, thanks for putting the ideas in my head!
3) Her declaration: "I'm not a lesbian; I'm not BI; I'm 'I'" This reminded me of how important Margaret Cho is breaking down some of those limiting identity politics. Thanks again, Margaret, for the liberation.

What I missed in the show was the subtlety and depth of Canada's own, Sandra Shamas. I missed her storytelling ability. Margaret Cho's show is more of an ADD manic sex show. Sandra Shamas somehow balances things off. She may be more on the depressive side of comedy, which makes her more appealing to me. I hope she comes back.

Back to the highlights, though. Kelly Liam Sullivan was the opening act, and he is just brilliant. Definitely inspiration for Astronaut Love Triangle. Apparently, this video has gone viral. I thought I was in touch with everything viral, but I guess not. Kelly Liam Sullivan is a genius. This one is worth checking out, too. Am I the only one who hasn't seen these?

Rose quilt

Lucinda in Montreal

Lucinda Williams is one of my idols, and I got the chance to see her at the Metropolis in Montreal on Thursday night. Lucinda could do pretty much anything and I would think she's wonderful. She is a rough, raw, edgy woman, and I love her for that. But, I have to admit, I was a little worried about her on Thursday. The chemical enhancement seemed a bit too...enhanced. I appreciated that she decided to scramble her set list. However, when she had to have a band huddle between each song, had to call the technician out on stage about ten times, and had to constantly turn her back to the audience to get grounded, I worried for her. I still love her, though. We regretted not being more stoned in solidarity. A highlight of the show was this song. "Hey my little honey bee, I'm so glad you stung me.".....Great stuff. She ended the whole show with an AC/DC cover: "It's a long way to the top (If ya wanna rock n' roll!)" Rock on, Lucinda!

Good news and bad news

The good news is Harper is on the downward slide.
The bad news is the stock market is on the downward slide.
The good news is the team of "Mavericks" seem to be also heading south.
The bad news is the Weltangst that follows me around despite all this positive political news.
The good news is I'm spending less time on line -- ie. not blogging.
The bad news is I'm not using all this wonderful non-blogging time to do fun and interesting things.
The good news is at least I'm aware of this.
The bad news is I'm not doing anything about it.
The good news is I'm thinking of getting a second cat.
The bad news is that I'm not planning to start cat blogging.

Manifestos

Reporting on the topic of non-blogging has grown old, so I'm going to write about something else.
Saw an interesting play at the NAC called Manifestes. I'm a big fan of Manifestos. The play had everything from the Communist Manifesto-- "Workers of the World Unite!" to the Manifesto of the FLQ to my personal favourite, the Dadaist Manifesto. Then, the Lieutenant Governor of New Brunswick, Hermenegilde Chiasson (who I am in love with) arrived on the stage at the end of the play to read his own manifesto, which was a kind of manifesto against manifestos. Very post-modern.
I love manifestos and plan to write my own, too. In fact, I think a good idea for the ESIs would be to have a Manifesto competition. Not sure what the prize would be.

Not Blogging So Far

So far not blogging has sent me into a downward spiral. I want to continue with this non-blogging experiment a bit longer, however. In the meantime, I've compiled a list of some advantages of blogging:

1) Blogging offers you an opportunity to rant about life's struggles. When you bottle it all up inside, you end up with back pain.
2) Blogging creates levity and tempers obsessive thoughts. Once you put your obsessive crap out there, you can laugh at it.
3) Blogging makes you look for funny bloggable moments. This leads to optimism.
4) Blogging keeps you out of trouble. If you are blogging, how much trouble can you get in, really?
5) There is no fifth.

Here are some things I've done instead of blogging:

1) I have canoed on the Rideau River. That was a good thing to do -- although I resented the fact that I can't swim in the river, and the swans piss me off.
2) I have worried about all the shit that's happening in the world: Sarah Palin (holy fuck!), Stephen Harper (holy fuck!), etc...
3) I have gone for a massage for a seized up back.
4) I have had some extended hypochondriac moments.
5) There is no fifth.

Blogging about not blogging

Dear blog readers,
I'm writing to let you know that in the upcoming weeks and months I will not be posting regularly. This is not a this-blog-is-coming-to-an-end posting. I will still be alive and well in the blogosphere.
However, I am experimenting with the idea of more off-line living. And, I intend to blog about this! So, please stay tuned.

Yours truly,

Aggie

International No-Blogging Month

I'm celebrating International No Blogging Month. See you all in September!

Today's retail discoveries

1) Habitat Restore. They have toilet tank lids for $10 in all sizes. It's a great store with friendly staff. The other customers are friendly, too. You could redo your whole kitchen, retile your bathroom...anything. It's all there, folks. No need for Home Depot.

2) I do not usually succumb to sales jobs... But I did to this one. If you walk in the Rideau Centre - main doors off Rideau street, pass the little store on the right, go up a couple of steps, pass the bank machines, you will arrive at some little stalls. A cute Israeli guy will ask for your hand. You give it to him. He puts some hand cream on it. You thank him. He then says: "You are natural woman. I see you keep your nails natural. I want to show you something." Then, he has me. He proceeds to file my nails with a kind of file block. After a few seconds of this filing process, it looks like I'm wearing a clear translucent polish. Think of all the money saved on manicures. Amazing! He tells me it will look beautiful like this for 2 weeks. And, the file block lasts for 2 years! Or, I can get my money back. He gave me a special special price and told me not to tell you. So, I won't.

Jesus in Kitten Fur

Have you seen this one?
I looked for Jesus in my cat's fur, but just found cat dandruff and Lauren Harper's face.

Aggie Update

I have not been in blogging mode/mood lately. Not much to report. The ESIs are giving me some support during this transition period, although they could be doing a whole lot more....

In other news: Scrabulous has been taken off Facebook. Thank God, Zoom weaned me off of Scrabulous and onto Scramble. I've taken to Scramble like a duck to water. Zoom continues to kick my ass.

I thought briefly today that I still "had it" after buying some new lip gloss called "Mango Juice", strutting my stuff on Bank Street, and receiving smiles from two attractive young men. Then, I realized my fly was down.

My cat

My cat went missing today, and is now found--locked in the next door neighbour's place. The neighbour's cat just died and left today with her owner to be buried in the country. The neighbour's cat hated my cat and tried to kill him every time they met. We made a point of keeping them apart. Somehow, while my neighbour was leaving with a freezer bag in hand, my cat slipped into her place. He has been wanting to get in there for a long long time. My cat never misses a meal, so when he didn't return, I assumed he was dead, too, and was bracing myself for a long period of mourning. But he's not dead. He's just trapped, we discovered when loud noises were heard over there. I sent dischevelled man over there with a screwdriver to break in, but he returned, saying he couldn't find a way to do it gracefully. He did manage to drop some dry cat food through the mail slot. We are not sure when the neighbour will return.

I Need a Toilet Top

No need to ask why, but can anyone tell me if and where I can buy just the top lid of a toilet. Not the seat lid, but the lid that covers the tank. I want ONLY the lid, not an entire toilet.

New Fabric

Isn't this nice? There is more. I bought $50 worth of fabric last weekend at a Montreal craft fair. I'm planning to make another quilt.

Feist sucked

I saw Feist last night. She wouldn't have sucked if she had been playing at the Manx or the Black Sheep Inn. But on the Main Stage of the Bluesfest, I didn't think she pulled it off, except for maybe the first 5 rows of people. She was doing her ambiant, artsy thing, which is pretty and everything, but doesn't work in that context. It annoyed me that she was a wanker last night. I wanted to see her rock, to be larger than life. I like Feist's schtick generally. Her voice is unique. The woman is capable of giving it when she wants to. But I'm over the whole 1, 2, 3, 4 shit.

Going Off Facebook

Zoom's delightful reruns made me take a look at what I was doing at this time last year. Tiana also does this on her blog (Congratulations, by the way, Tiana! Nice little fellow you got there).
Last year at this time I was just becoming a Facebook user and even had a mission statement worked out for myself. My year on Facebook has left me unsatisfied. Here are some reasons I'm going to go off Facebook:

1) I'm addicted to Scrabulous in a sick kind of way and could basically spend my whole life playing it if I let myself.
2) I've stopped caring about accumulating celebrity "friends". Friending up with these people has gotten me nothing!
3) Reconnecting with some people from my past has brought out some negative feelings in me: jealousy, regret, resentment. Instead of expressing these emotions, I have to write superficial things on their "walls" like, "Oh, I'm so happy for you, living in your beautiful space with your beautiful wife with your Canada Council grant and your gigantic studio and your insanely successful career"...
4) I've discovered that Facebook is a lazy man's pick-up joint. Facebook flirting is lame, lame. Lazy. Get off your ass, fellows! Go to a bar and flirt there!
5) Fun Walls are not fun. Fuck fun walls.
6) I don't want to look at people's family photo albums.
7) I end up in conversations with people on Facebook who would never normally send me an email or contact me. What's wrong with some boundaries? No, I don't want to catch up with my childhood classmate who has become born-again and hopes to save me via Facebook.
8) I have run out of witty things to say on my "status" line.
9) I don't ever want to be superpoked again.
10) Did I mention the Scrabulous addiction?

Here is a question for y'all: How do I gracefully remove myself from Facebook? Or, should I just rip myself off, like a bandaid?

Templates

I'm messing around with templates, and lost all my "favourites" in the process. I am hoping that by changing my template, I will be more inspired to write. Going for style over substance, in other words.

Aggie update and random thoughts

1) I'm still sick, but I won't blog about that because that's boring.

2) I am bracing for a big transition ahead: starting work next week, moving back to Ottawa, etc. You can bet I'll be calling an ESI emergency meeting to discuss--how to support Aggie while she goes through this rough transition.

3) I'm feeling ambivalent about blogging these days because I'm trying to reduce my screen time and do other things like a) cook
b) read c) get well d) sleep e) watch TV (it's a different screen, I know...) f) talk/communicate g) spend quality time with my person and cat unit h) make stuff out of fabric i) organize my life. I am aware that blogging itself doesn't take a lot of time. But, once I get on here, it's hard to get off. I'm definitely removing myself from Facebook. No point being on there now that I've reconnected with all my exes and discovered that they have become gay, breeders with SUVs, or really happy in some way that annoys me.

4) [Redacted] ... A rant about a friend getting married again, and me questioning that decision and the whole institution. I read what a wrote and I didn't like my tone. So .... redacted!

5) I'd better quit while I'm ahead.

Lost voice

I have laryngitis. I have decided to just "go with it" and stay silent. When folks talk to me, I don't respond except to smile weakly. I don't want to blame my family for my current condition, but ..... I was speaking before I spent the week with them.
In other news, I'm starting work again in a week. The transition will be rough, and no one will feel sorry for me. Another reason to stay silent.

Reasons I can't blog right now

1)I have been out in the sticks. I just came into civilization to shower.
2)I'm at a family reunion, relating to family, all of them, including in-laws and out-laws.
3)I'm sick despite gargling with salt water, taking Vitamin C, drinking oregano oil, ingesting garlic.
4)I'm too tired to blog.
5)There is no...

In the past 24 hours...

1) I have witnessed a sleepover with seven 11-year old girls. There was make-up, there were fancy clothes, there was screaming, there were brownies, there was opera singing, there was swimming, there was nail polish, there were romantic movies. The only casualty was a lost earring.

2) I made the acquaintance of a fellow who says he lives in a house with ghosts, one who he sees regularly (an old man in a black-hooded coat), and a group he hears (a bunch of kids who are around 5-6 years old).

3) I saw a mother spray Show Sheen (a spray for detangling a horse's mane) on her 11-year old daughter's curly hair.

4) I met a guy who played Jesus in his church's Easter pageant, and who showed me photos of himself nailed to a cross.

5) I made a quilt while drinking gin and tonic.

Things that annoy me...

My friends will attest to the fact that I am highly sensitive to inappropriate language. For example, I'm very particular about salutations in emails, so please don't address me with a "Hey Aggie"; that's "Dear Aggie", thank you very much. And, don't even get me started on "yep".

Here are two of my latest language annoyances.

1) "cats are OK- purrr"/"dogs are OK- wooof" - I'm reading this in rental listings, Craig's list, etc.. Why do they have to add the "purr" and "wooof" thing? And EVERYONE is writing this! I love cats and dogs, but it just annoys the crap out of me to constantly read this purr and woof shit.

2) "yummers" - This one is all over the food blog world and it makes me gag. I guess it means delicious. As if "yummy" wasn't bad enough! The Urban Dictionary has a nice first definition of yummers here.

Looking for Housing

I'm looking for a place to live. Not to buy. To rent. I will be a renter for the rest of my days. I don't really care (can we really own things anyway?), but I'd like to be able to find a decent place to rent. I haven't so far. Part of the problem is I haven't settled on a neighbourhood. Another problem is I don't want something shitty with an insane landlord. I also don't want to be dealing with nutty neighbours. I want a small patch of grass for my cat. I am looking for an interesting francophone or mixed (non-WASP) neighbourhood with a bit of a street life.

1) Little Italy/Chinatown. Haven't seen anything good yet.
2) Vanier. Can't quite get my head around the Montreal Road/Beechwood disconnect.
3) Hintonburg. Haven't seen anything interesting yet.
4) Hull. Has potential, but haven't found a place I really want yet. Not really in love with St.Joseph Blvd, although it has its hidden charms. Old Hull? The bureaucrat/crack addict disconnect is also hard for me to get my head around.
5) Aylmer. Too far. Price of gas.

The Fate of the Don Cherry Trenchcoat

The Don Cherry trenchcoat accompanied me to Portugal, but didn't make it back. I first showed it to my travel companion on the early part of the trip, and she agreed that it was "pretty bad", followed by --"how much did you pay for that?" So, the trench stayed in my bag as I travelled all over Portugal. Then, I ended up in the Algarve with my brother, sister-in-law and niece. I pulled the trenchcoat out. My sister-in-law tried it on, and said, "Why don't you just get rid of it?" Earlier that day, my brother noticed that a group of Portugese animal rights folks had a little used clothing place where they raise funds for the critters. So, the trenchcoat went to a good cause. It is contributing to saving the Portugese beasts!

Good purchases/Bad purchases

I am on a shopping diet since my trip.
Here are a list of some of the better purchases I made, along with the more questionable ones.

Good purchases

- a manicure in the Lisbon airport. Perfect!
- a new blue jacket. Love it!
- a 5-Euro shirt from Zara. Sweet!
- a pomegranate-extract-smelling Swiss body spray. Nice!
- Italian-made panties that depict a field of poppies. Lovely!
- a truckload of lavender sachets. Adorable!
- a quilted wall hanging with appliqued scene of Portugese women in black sitting in front of pink house talking with a clothesline of bra and panties above them. Beautiful!

Bad purchases

- the Don Cherry trenchcoat (I'll talk about its fate later).
- Portugese tiles bought at a Lisbon flea market. I bought too many, and extras were thrown in to make the deal sweeter. They are very very heavy. I don't know what to do with them. I bought them early on in the trip then nearly broke my back carrying the damn things. Some of them are chipped from all the travelling.
- pre-paid internet access in a seedy little Lisbon hotel. The hotel computer broke, and I was told by the front desk dude that it was "not his problem". I wondered if he had read about Megan's "not my problem" filing system and had taken it to ridiculous extremes...
- Hermes body cream purchased in Paris airport. I thought I was being very chic and French by buying this. But the stuff stinks. And I have the nice Swiss pomegranate body spray. So I don't need it. Bad.
- A red suede handbag. I don't need this. I was convinced by a sales person that this bag was "me" -- that I was sassy, red and exciting, and that this bag would complete me. It's nice, but do I need it? No.

Travel soundtracks

When I travel, I sometimes have surreal soundtrack moments: when I hear music that either compliments or doesn't compliment a place. Here are some memorable travel soundtrack moments I've had:

Kupang, West Timor, Indonesia: Hearing this Vanilla Ice tune while -- in full tropical heat-- riding a Bemo, an Indonesian taxi, which is basically a pimped up minivan stuffed with more people and chickens than you can imagine.

Seoul, Korea: In a woman's underwear/lingerie store. I heard this Ace of Bass classic (as interpreted by Britney) while examining a pair of padded-ass panties. Yes, they sell padded-ass underwear in some parts of the world...

Malmo, Sweden: At a small outdoor skating rink in a public square on a crisp January morning, watching children skate to Abba's Take a Chance. This one made a lot of sense.

Nashville, Tennessee: I took control of this travel soundtrack. In downtown Nashville traffic, I was driving a minivan containing two very badly behaved nephews. To calm my nerves, I shoved Bob Dylan's Nashville Skyline into the player. This one made a lot of sense to me, too.

Lisbon, Portugal: This is my latest soundtrack moment, and took place in a taxi, driving through a beautiful old neighbourhood with palm trees and tile-decorated homes with exquisite linens hanging out in the sun. My friendly, stocky, Portugese-only speaking driver was playing Bon Jovi's classic Shot Through the Heart. I have a great new appreciation for this tune:

"Shot through the heart,
And you're to blame
You give love a bad name
I play my part, and you play your game
You give love a bad name.
You give love a bad name."

update coming soon....

I am still on my European holiday. I will be updating the blog soon. I know you are dying to hear what happened to the Don Cherry trenchcoat...

Don Cherry Trenchcoat

I bought a godawful trenchcoat yesterday, having convinced myself that I need a trenchcoat to travel. I'm travelling tomorrow, by the way. The trenchcoat is....think Don Cherry. I bought it yesterday because 1) it was cheap, 2) the saleswoman gave me 20% off because of a missing button (an extra button was in the pocket) 3) I convinced myself that it was a 'happy', 'cheerful' trenchcoat (which should set off alarm bells...). I got it home, put it on, and decided it had to go back to the store. I located the receipt. The receipt said, "Final sale. Exchange only within 15 days of purchase". I went back to the store. The saleswoman said, "It's a final sale because I knocked off 20%. No exchange." I showed her the receipt, blah, blah, blah. She finally, grudgingly said, "OK". So, I looked around the store and found nothing I wanted or needed. In fact, I concluded that I disliked the whole store. Then, I tried on the godawful trenchcoat again, and realized it was the best thing in the store. So, I went back to the woman. Blah blah blah. Then, she said, "I'm going to have to take your receipt away because you can't have an exchange next time." I was too defeated and f-ed up about the cheap, shitty-looking trenchcoat I was walking away with to argue with her.
But, hello! Bad business practice, no? When people exchange things, they usually end up spending more. They also feel better about the store. I'm never going back there.
Meanwhile, I'm walking around looking like Don Cherry.

How to Sell Something to Aggie

1) Display things beautifully.
2) Have an uncrowded store.
3) Hire impeccably polite and adorable Asian men who don't do the hard sell, but gently flirt with customers.
4) Offer a "free" gift if a certain amount is spent.
5) Flog your wares as Canadian-made (even if they are only designed in Canada and made in China).

Wow, there are actually 5 things this time! I walked away from this store quite a bit poorer yesterday, convincing myself that a good purse is an "investment", and pleased with myself for "winning" a new beautiful canvas gym bag, valued at $50. Ahhh, global capitalism. It works on me like a charm.

Music for the Long Weekend

Here is some inspirational music for the long weekend. I heard this 60's band, the Honeycombs, on a CBC thing on Friday evening and I thought they kicked ass. Apparently, their producer, Joe Meek, stuck a microphone under his front steps and got them to stomp to get the banging effect. The female drummer is very cool. I would like to dress like her and be like her.

I still have a lot to learn

*I don't know how to remove bubble gum from a leather purse strap and clothing.

*I didn't know that it was still possible to lose a document on the computer. I assumed there were enough back-ups: the "do you want to save?" questions, the auto-saves, the temp files, etc... But, no. It is still possible to actually lose a half a day's work. Gone. Zap. Fuck. And, yes, I called the technical guy, and he said, "Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but you lost it!"

There are a whole lot of other things I don't know, too.

Mother's Day

My dear mother sent me this email yesterday explaining the origin of Mother's Day.

Do you remember the origin of Mother's Day? Our friend, REDACTED, was pastor in Grafton, West Virginia. A Methodist woman started it there in her church in the early 1900s. Evidently she was a real bitch and not nice at all to her mother. She felt guilty after her mother died, so she started mother's day. Evidently there is a shrine to mothers in Grafton. Love from your sainted Mother.

Bless her, I think she is letting me off the hook for not sending a card. I do plan to give her a ring later...
Did you people know that Mother's Day was started by a real bitch who was not nice to her mother?

Bursting at the seams

I have not been blogging, in case you noticed. But I'm doing ok, in case you care. In fact, I am chock full of creativity right now, and am bursting my seams with ideas:

1) 4 book ideas. The first three could be books or could be magazine pieces, and they are in the Do-It-Yourself genre. The fourth idea involves diagrams and is more of self-help kind of deal.

2) 1 massive art project. I need a photographer (Coyote?), a painter, or some other kind of art person, and a short story writer. My team has not yet been assembled, but I'm sure with the IDEA I have, we can get massive funding to pull this thing off.

I would love to tell you more, but aren't you supposed to keep ideas secret? Or, are you supposed to tell all the world, so that you are more likely to actually realize them?

Extreme Crafting

My apologies for the lack of posting. And, sorry for not updating the Bakelite story. Soon the sordid secrets of Della's blog will be revealed.
I am all relaxed and happy, just coming off an extreme crafting/retreat weekend during which I made my first quilt. Pictures will follow. I also made a naughty French maid apron and a cushion. Also did lots of clothing reconstruction. The naughty French maid apron was made from a curtain valance.

Strange Day

Something weird is in the air today. The weirdness started on the way to Ikea when I almost hit a pedestrian. I apologized in two official languages, then decided that it was a bad day for city driving so I retreated. Then, I got my bike out and rode it down St. Denis to do some errands. I kept thinking I heard my name. "Aggie!" I thought I heard a beautiful young woman in a wheelchair yell. Then, I thought I heard my name again from a PETA activist, "Aggie!". Then, I thought I heard "Aggie!" again, this time from a taxi driver as I was crossing the street. What does this mean?

The Buddhist Death Workshop

I invited a friend to attend the death workshop with me, but he said, "I'm not ready to deal with death right now, but thanks for the invitation." So I went by myself, and the room was PACKED with people of all ages. The session was led by a cheerful Buddhist nun with a buzz cut who laughed heartily while talking casually about death and assuring us that she was not trying to scare the hell out of us by using the d-word. So, here's a summary of the workshop.

1) We are all going to die (in case you didn't know that).
2) We don't know when we're going to die.
3) The thing to strive for is to die happy with as much dharma as you can muster, which means you have to start working on it right now. The goal is to go out gracefully, however it is you go. I'm not totally clear on the whole dharma thing...
4) Embracing change is apparently key. Death is just a really really noticeable example of change. But, we are all dying and changing everyday. The Buddhist nun said that we suffer when try to stop change or attach to things and people tenaciously, thinking we can stop change.

Things I've been doing instead of blogging

1) Looking for a place to live -- without success.
2) Writing -- serious writing as opposed to a trashy little story.
3) Watching hockey. Yes, I am a Habs fan. Sorry about that to all of you Sens people.
4) Crafting wildly. Making merch for Astronaut Love Triangle. More on this later....
5) There is no fifth thing.
6) Wondering how I'm going to have time to blog when I get really busy again.
7) Getting excited about the quilting workshop I'm going to do with famous quilter Jennifer Beckley.
8) Celebrating my birthday and embracing getting older.
9) Attending a Buddhist workshop on death. Very very interesting. More on this later.
10) Drinking all the alcohol people gave me for my birthday. Thanks everyone!

Bakelite: Part VIII

“Dan, what on earth did she post?” asked Carol. Dan paused. Carol could hear the rasp of her own breathing which made her self-conscious, even with someone as familiar as Dan. The more she waited for her ex-husband to talk, the more she felt her chest tightening again. “Della is not what she seems,” said Dan. Yes, well that’s obvious, Carol thought, still waiting. Dan started again, “Listen, Care. I need you to promise me something. Will you promise not to look at Della’s blog until I get there?” Carol was stunned. “Come on, Dan. Is it that bad? I’m not a Faberge egg. I can handle this. Why are you being so overprotective? It’s late…. You can’t come over here now.” Dan was silent again. “Care, please, trust on me this. I think we need to look at this thing together.”

Distractions lately

1) Spring cleaning.
2) My crush.
3) Sewing projects.
4) Spring energy. Isn't it great?
5) There is no fifth thing.

Two t-shirts I saw today...

On this day of biking, Polish bazaar-shopping, perogie-eating, expresso-drinking, and sunbathing, I spotted two interesting t-shirts with questionable messages:

1) T-shirt #1: "Sex without love is just exercise". That depends on how much you exert yourself. It might not be exercise at all. It might just be...sex. And, sex with love can be exercise or not, too, no?

2) T-shirt #2: "An awkward morning is better than a boring evening". Hmmmm. It depends on how awkward. Really really terribly awkward can be pretty bad, no? And sometimes a boring evening is just what the doctor ordered.

The Thinker

Why does she talk to me in that stupid way? "Who's your mommy?? Who's your mommy"! Good grief. I can't even look at her when she does this weird needy cat-woman thing. I'm going to kill that little bird out there. Then, I'm going roll in it. Then, I'm going to have a nap in the sun.

New Pillow

This is my latest crafty creation. I'm happy with it. It's kind of a mauve cord material with patchwork. The pink floral thing is a tablecloth that I decided to cut up. It was really too much pink to eat off of...

10 Food Tips I Learned from my Exes

I never learned how to cook from mother (which I guess is how a lot of people my age learn). My mother was good at many things, but she has never been a real force dans la cuisine. So, I have mostly learned about cooking from my exes. Thank you, exes! Here are some things I've learned:

1) When in doubt, start by chopping an onion and cooking it in olive oil. Always a good start. If you put the onion in the fridge, it won't make you cry when you chop it.

2) Cut things away from yourself. Use chopping blocks. Don't cut things in the air....

3) Add nuts to things: stirfrys, chili, salads, you name it.

4) You don't need to add more salt if you are using something like soy sauce; it's salty enough!

5) Don't be intimidated by large cuts of meats, or a big fish. They are the easiest things to cook.

6) Experiment with different grains. There is a whole world out there beyond potatoes and Minute rice.

7) Invest in a state-of-the-art vegetable peeler. It will make your life better.

8) Eat lots of fruits and vegetables; they are really good for you! Really focus on the fruits in the morning. You will feel better.

9) Make a lot of food, so that you will have leftovers. You can bring your leftovers to work and save money.

10) It's O.K. to eat in front of the T.V. if hockey playoffs are on.

Bakelite: Part VII

Della’s husband’s lack of life insurance also proved to be a bummer. According to Della, after three months of grieving she realized she needed to find some way to make a living. An Ottawa cousin who owned a grocery store in Little Italy offered her a job in the deli so she could be close to loving family and get her financial footing. This was what brought Della to Ottawa, and it was in this charming Italian grocery store that Carol and Della met.

Carol remembered the moment like it was yesterday. She was buying bocconcini for a special birthday dinner for Dan. Della towered over her from behind a glass deli counter, and the two of them giggled like high school girls when Della said, “mmmmm….yum….balls.” This led to a conversation in which Della told Carol the sad story about her husband’s passing, about being new in town, about not having any friends, about the unfriendliness of Ottawans. That day Carol gave Della her phone number and invited her for dinner.

Dan didn't appreciate having an unexpected guest over for his birthday. And he really didn't like it when Della requested to speak with Carol privately after dinner. Carol led her into the den where she kept her Bakelite collection. "What is it?" Carol asked. "Are you ok?" Della was suddenly in tears and sobbing. Carol put a hand on Della's shoulder, pushing her dark curly hair to the back. She didn't know this woman well enough to put her arms around her. "Can I help?" Carol asked. Della spoke between sobs, "It's my cousin....He doesn't want me anymore...He says I need to find something else...It's my fault...I fucked it up...I fucked him by mistake." Della said all of this with tears streaming down her dimpled cheeks. "You slept with your cousin? Your first cousin?" Carol asked, trying not to show shock or surprise on her face. "Yes, but it's not what you think...Now he thinks I'm some kind of homewrecker... and he's spooked...he's afraid I'm going to tell his wife...which I wouldn't....Oh Carol, you don't know how hard it is to lose a husband." Carol didn't know what to say that would be of comfort at this moment. In her uneasiness, she reached for a plastic butterscotch bangle from her rack of bracelets, and, pressed it into Della's hand: "I want you to have this, Della. You have been through a lot." Della put the bangle on her wrist and twirled it around in her fingers. "I love it!" she said, her eyes streaked with mascara. "It's so smooth...and plastic!"

"It's a genuine Bakelite", Carol said softly. "If you rub it with your thumb and sniff, it should smell like formaldehyde and burnt human hair. That's how you know it's real." Della followed Carol's instructions and nodded. "Burnt human hair!" she said, and the two women laughed together. Della's face became serious again, "You are a real sweetheart, Carol. Somehow I knew you would understand me.... But now I really need a kleenex because I'm full of snot." The women laughed together again. It was like they were old friends.

Food break

Here are a few food things I've discovered lately. The change in weather has made me hungry.

1) Turnips: throw a turnip into your boiled potatoes and then mash them all together with salt and butter and you will have something good. I recommend buying a smaller turnip. They are much easier to cut.

2) Brussels Sprouts: they used to make me gag as a child. An ex of mine showed me that you don't have to boil them; you can cut up the little babies and stir fry them. I add ginger (get a jar of the pre-chopped stuff) and a bit of honey and they are delicious. A future posting: cooking tips I learned from my exes....

3) Pickled Eggplant: a lunch with Woodsy at an Italian place got me onto these things. They are ADDICTIVE, an appetite stimulant, and can accompany any meal. Just thinking about pickled eggplant makes me salivate.

Bakelite: Part VI

Carol and Della started their blogs around the same time. Carol remembered the day, the moment, they decided to blog. They were sitting on the brown leather couch in her living room, drinking coffee after dinner and talking together energetically about their ideas. Carol had already been reading plenty of knitting blogs and figured she was ready to start one of her own. After all, she was designing her own baby blankets and sweaters now, and she loved the idea of sharing her patterns with others. "I can also tell my readership where to shop. I know where to find the cheapest and most gorgeous baby alpaca wool in all of Ontario!" said Carol, flushed with excitement. "And your Bakelite collection, don't forget about that, sweetie! You could sell those little suckers," added Della. Della viewed blogging as a way to get rich. "I want to be the next Dooce!” proclaimed Della. “Whatever it takes, Care-baby, I’m going to create a life that will be excellent to blog, so that people will want to read me every day… to see what happened.” Della was the dramatic friend. The fun friend. The outrageous friend. The friend Carol lived vicariously through at times. It seemed somehow that Della had always been in her life when, in fact, it hadn't been that long. Della had only moved to Ottawa from Calgary two years earlier. Her husband, her high school sweetheart, had died unexpectedly. “It was a bummer,” Della told Carol the first time they met.

Bakelite: Part V

(*If you haven't read the first parts of this story, start here).

Carol decided to approach the incident by restoring normalcy to her home. She prepared a pot roast for dinner. She and Roy ate silently on the same brown leather couch on which the incident took place, facing the flat screen TV and flipping between the Kentucky Derby and the Weather Channel. The family cat, Ginger, collapsed between them and fell into deep slumber. Neither knew or really cared anything about horses or horse-racing, but the Derby was something they had always watched together as a family when Dan lived there, so it seemed right. After dinner, Roy’s skinny, pasty-faced little computer nerd friend, Sterling, arrived, and they retreated to Roy’s room to play games. Little boys playing games, Carol thought. This thought reassured her. Carol stayed on the couch with her cat and her knitting and began to feel like she could breathe again.

Later that evening, Carol prepared a bath with lavender and eucalyptus oils to soothe her body and clear her lungs before bed. The water was still running and she was standing naked in her bathroom when the phone rang. She quickly wrapped herself in a pink terrycloth robe, turned off the water and opened the door. The ringing had stopped and she could hear Roy voice: “I know. I know….Don’t worry. Everything’s cool here….O.K…..I didn’t do anything…… Well, yeah, I have.…but everyone does…..what does that have to do with?…But it didn’t…..Relax, would you, Dad!” Upon sighting his mother’s worried face peeking out the bathroom door, he spoke louder. “Ok, then. Thanks, Dad. Here’s Mom.” Roy handed the cordless to his mother and headed back to his room.

“Hey Dan. What’s going on?” Carol said, shivering and wishing she were in the bath. Dan sighed loudly into the phone. “Just enquiring a bit about his porn consumption. A lot of kids are, you know, little porn freaks now, looking at all kinds of weird internet shit that you and I never saw…I just wonder if he saw Della as some kind of, you know, porn-scenario-in-the-making.” Carol answered with surprise, “I thought you thought it was more of a move on Della’s part…Isn’t she the one who initiated the thing? Anyway, being all aggressive with him isn’t really helpful, is it? Why don’t you talk to him about it in a normal, man-to-man talk kind of way?” Dan sighed again and was silent, which was not like him. “What is up with you, Dan? Why do I get the feeling you have your knickers in a knot about something?” Carol was always good at getting her ex-husband to open up. “Care. I need to talk to you about something else…It’s Della’s blog… You haven’t seen it, have you?” his voice sounded shaky now. Carol could feel herself getting out of breath again, but answered slowly and carefully, “No. I hardly read the thing at the best of times…even though she’s linked to my blog, of course. Tonight I’ve been just trying not to think about Della at all, ok?” Dan hesitated for a second, then said, “Ok. Ok. Listen, Della says some things on her blog that might upset you. Which is why I’m calling.”

Commercial break...

The Bakelite story will continue. But first, a commercial break. Conch Shell is promoting the merits of bamboo stalks in your home.
Here is what she has to say:
"They are cheap. You can buy them for $2 a stalk at Loblaws."
"They'll live for about 2-3 years in water with little care and no soil. Toss in a few rocks for effect."
"They give you home a feng-shui look, suggesting the spiritual and philosophical leanings of the homeowners."
When I asked Conch Shell if bamboo stalks would be good home staging "fluff", she gave an unequivocal, "YES!"

Bakelite IV

At this point Carol was pretty much completely out of words and energy. She walked away from her son to her room for a little cry, which didn’t happen, so she picked up the phone to call Dan. Her ex was no moral compass, but she needed to talk to a semi-sane adult, to just get this thing out. Dan was with a client when she called, but said he could excuse himself for a couple of minutes. He listened to his ex-wife recount what she saw when she walked in the door: Della and Roy on the couch together in some kind of abnormal position. Della’s shirt half off. Roy’s hand in the shirt. Della wearing one of her Bakelites. “There’s really no limit to who Della will pull her tits out for,” said Dan, trying to reassure her. “She’s a freak and a fuck-up. A country bumpkin, really. She probably needed material for her trashy little blog which she imagines to be some kind of get-rich scheme. Forget about it, Care.” Carol whispered loudly into the phone, “But that’s our boy…He’s only 16. And a young 16-year old at that. Just a kid, a little gamer, a computer nerd, really.” Finally, Dan sighed and said, “Whoa whoa whao, Care…So what? Our kid got to see what a set of saggy old 50-year old tits looks like…Just let it go, hon.” Carol corrected him, “Della’s 45”, and then suddenly they were both laughing at they weren’t sure what. He had to go, he told her. She invited him for supper. “I got something going on,” he said, which was code for out with a woman. They said their goodbyes. He asked if she was ok. Yes, she was ok. Really? Yes. Really. He said he would have a talk to Roy next time. Good idea. She hung up, located her handbag, dug out her puffer and sucked on it deeply.

Bakelite III

“Sorry about that, Mom” said Roy, slowly trying to move in the direction of his bedroom. “We didn’t do anything really,” he added, looking away, embarrassed. His profile showed a chinless, chubby lad whose young skin appeared pulled down by gravity. “What was she doing here anyway?” Carol asked. “She was waiting here for you, actually…You were late, I guess. She said something about you helping her with her resume.” said Roy, squinting and still not looking directly at his mother. Right. Carol remembered. She was supposed to help this woman, her friend, get a job. Right.

Bakelite cont'd

Della wrenched the bangle off her wrist and placed it gently on the glass coffee table in front of her. “I didn’t steal it. I just wanted to try it on because it is adorable...and you have gobs of them...all lined up in there, your den, or whatever you call that room,” Della prattled on, pointing and gesturing a little more dramatically than usual as she made her way towards the foyer where she cinched her body into a short pink trenchcoat and stuffed her large feet into a pair of black, pointy boots. “That’s my Bakelite collection that I care about very much, thank you very much.” was Carol’s delayed retort. She felt ridiculous immediately after saying it. Finally, Della made her exit and Carol’s gaze turned to her son.

Bakelite

“Get your paws off my boy, Della.” If Carol had been a cowgirl, she would lassoed Della and wrangled her right down to the carpet. Della looked up surprised, no trace of embarassment, just the familiar face of offended innocence, dimples and all: “Lighten up, Care. I’m just showing him the ropes a bit here,” she said, buttoning her blouse. “Get out of my living room, you little predator. Cow!” Carol wanted to sound as strong as her words, but she needed her puffer. Della widened her eyes at Carol as if to communicate 'Not in front of the children'. Then, she turned to Roy beside her on the couch and layed a silver-ringed hand to his flabby pink cheek. “Sorry about that, sweetie,” Della said cheerfully. It was in this gesture that Carol saw the flash of a red plastic bangle on Della’s wrist. “And you stole one of my Bakelites while you were at it! Is there anything else that you would like to fuck with while you’re here?” Carol’s high nasal voice was no match for the intensity of her words, and she was conscious of this. She just felt an overwhelming exhaustion as she stood there in her living room, trying to understand this bizarre scene before her.

"Inventing a life for dialogue"

Just read an inspiring New Yorker article about how writer Richard Price uses dialogue. If you are a writer trying to write fiction, I highly recommend giving this a read. I've always had trouble figuring out how to do dialogue. My solution is just to write in the first person. Reading this helped me see other possibilities. When I sat down to write today, I felt less constrained by the dialogue problem. Here are a couple of little extracts of dialogue I wrote this afternoon:

“Lighten up, Care. I’m just showing him the ropes a bit here” she said, buttoning her blouse. “Get out of my house, you little predator. Cow!” Carol wanted to sound as strong as her words, but her voice cracked.

“There’s really no limit to who Della will pull her tits out for,” said Dan, reassuring her. “She’s a freak and a fuck-up. A country bumpkin, really. Look at where she comes from. Forget about it, Care.”

A Hypochondriac Meditating

I'm chilled a bit. Hope I'm not getting another cold. And my back hurts. Shit. Maybe I should have opted for the chair today. I really have to get back to see my acupunture guy. I'm completely blocked up. Or, yoga maybe. But, I haven't found a yoga class that I'm totally comfortable with here. I need Mark Laham. Breathe. Distractions out. Fresh air in. Distractions out in a cloud of black smoke. Gone. I'm feeling a little twitch in my cheek. Shit. I wonder if I'm having a little stroke or something. Or, it could be Bell's Palsy which I guess wouldn't be the end of the world. Or, could be a brain tumour, I guess. Or, just the beginnings of a brain tumour. My aunt had one, so it's not like we don't have brain tumours in the family. Distractions out. Breathe. Sit up straight. Or, it could just be a stroke. That would suck having your face all paralysed after a stroke. Stuck in an expression you can't control. Affecting your speech, even. I guess meditation would help me deal with this kind of thing. Distractions out. Fresh air in. My arms feel heavy, too, today. Maybe I have heart disease.

Doing Art

One more tip for surviving the eternal winter: do art. Do any kind of art that works for you. If you feel you lack "talent", call yourself a "concept artist". Form an alternative band. Sew. Knit. Write. Dance. Paint. Flirt.

Surviving....continued

Just a few notes on my last list, and some of the responses.

#1) Self-medication: yes, do this. Don't be stoic. HOWEVER, don't overdo the red wine thing. It's easy to do. It tastes so good. But, it can kind of destroy you the next day if you aren't careful. Then, you don't feel like doing the long walk, eating the chocolate bunny, and all that good stuff. Unfortunately, that's where I'm at today. I overdid #1.

#2) Anonymous suggested flirting, and I think that is super. And, Pandora, I don't think flirting has to be "mutual", although that is fun when it happens. But, flirting just is. And, as Conch Shell pointed out last night, you can always deny its existence if you need to. You can say, "I was just being my usual charming self"... But flirting is tricky in Ottawa and I think it requires a whole lot more study and analysis. My experience with flirting here has been mostly unsuccessful, leaving me feeling fairly asexual overall. Not that flirting has to have an "outcome"; but even a little mild fucking acknowledgement or a nod of appreciation would be nice.

#3) Anonymous also mentioned getting a pedicure, and I think that is a good idea. Or, you can do it yourself if you are able to bend over without getting head spins. Again, be careful with #1.

#4) I recommend doing some Yin Yoga. It's a kind of yoga where you lie on the floor for a really long time. Lots of hip openers, which are really good for the mojo, and treating late-winter asexuality.

#5) There is no 5th thing.

Surviving the last gasps of winter

Here are some tips for surviving the winter that just won't quit.

1) Medicate yourself with whatever you need. Don't try to be stoic. Take the edge off, folks.
2) Do some shopping. Buy some cheap rubber boots for the meltdown that is coming. Buy a tank top, crank the heat, and walk around in your place. Buy books and music. Play the music loud. This is no time for moderation.
3) Take advantage of the longer days. Take long walks after work and walk really fast. Feel the spring fever that is starting to hit. Wear all the usual layers so you won't get pissed off in the middle of the walk.
4) Cook really elaborate meals and drink and rant about hockey violence while cooking. Pretend you are Italian.
5) Do something spontaneous that you haven't dared to do: buy a new pet, move in with someone, leave someone, get a Brazilian wax, take up snowboarding.
6) Learn to knit baby booties in gender neutral colours. The Knitnut told me that you can make them in one sitting. There are a lot of babies born in the spring.
7) Buy a beret and pretend you are a Parisienne. Adopt the attitude.
8) Go to a hair salon, ask for something modern and see what you end up with.
9) Go out and buy a chocolate Easter bunny on sale and eat it right out on the street while you are doing #3.
10) There is no tenth thing.

Oh Bob!

Bob continues to be one of Ottawa's most delightful bloggers. I can't even find words to express how much I love his postings. His latest one, "Mitten Birds", is possibly the most adorable, sweetest thing I've ever read. I don't want to pressure the man, but I would love it if he blogged just a tiny bit more often.
I know this is technically "metablogging" and deserves to be over on the ESI blog, but there is a lot happening over there right now.

Youtube and Shower Caps

Happy Easter, by the way.

But let's move back to shower caps and their uses. I did a little internet research on the subject and found two Youtube videos on the subject.

The first Youtube video is a bit dull, and in a slow, tedious way shows how shower caps can be used to cover bowls. Woodsy already told us about that one.

The second video is hilarious, and you will get lots of interesting ideas about uses for the shower cap (baby nappy and fart catcher are my favourites, but I have a penchant for toilet humour). Warning: this video shows a middle-aged guy wearing either a red speedo or red speedo-like underwear, if you are sensitive to this kind of thing. I'm fine with it, but think he might be cuter in boxers.

David Scrimshaw might consider making a Youtube video on his uses for binder clips.

Shower Caps

Happy Good Friday all! I hope you all had a good day like I did.

I seem to be stuck on the consumer theme here. Forgive me. Just wanted to let you know about the GREAT BUYS I got in Chinatown the other day. I went to Global Homeware & Giftware (708C Somerset St. West at Arthur St.) and bought THREE top-quality shower caps. I picked up their business card while I was at it. They advertise themselves as selling "powerful kitchen rangehoods", but they have SO much more. If you haven't been there, you really must go. Above are photos of TWO high-quality shower caps I bought for almost nothing. I gave the third one to a friend who called it "the cadillac of shower caps". Shower caps are underrated and extremely useful for those times when you don't want to wash and dry your hair, but you want to rinse off your body. It's a time-saver. A lifehack. You can also use shower caps as covers for your bicycle seat on a rainy day. Or, alternatively, you can buy a very funky bicycle seat cover from Mintyfresh here.

More consumer behaviour

I've decided I was a lounge diva in a past life. I continue to buy impractical things that a) I can't really wear to work, and b) that I won't normally wear when I'm just hanging with friends. I am buying all kinds of fancy shit that is both flashy and on sale. Today's purchase was......a silver suit. I was just going to buy the skirt because it is cute, and I thought I could get away with wearing a silver skirt to work; in fact, I thought it might brighten things up a bit there. Then, the saleswoman pulled out two other matching pieces: a short jacket, and a kind of bustier thing. She successfully convinced that I needed the SET and that I could wear the pieces separately or together to work, to a wedding, to a baptism. Yes, she mentioned baptism. Even though I can't recall being invited to a baptism, I was sucked into the sales spiel. But, I have the silver suit here, and I love it!
I was happy with my last silver clothing purchase, too. I assumed that one was mid-life crisis-induced. I'm not sure what this one is all about... So, any weddings, baptisms or other fancy events out there that any of you would like to invite me to?

Commercial break

A break from the Havana photos here. Let's have a commercial break, shall we? This is what blogging is really all about, is it not? Today I had a conversation with a friend about the Spitzer whore incident in which I ended up shouting: "We are all whores and johns on some level, are we not? We live in a whorish culture in whorish times!" My friend told me she thought I needed to spend less time in Cuba.
OK. Here comes the product endorsement, folks. I, Aggie, am endorsing a Winter Face Cream produced by the Green Beaver Company. It's local, it's green, and it's cheap ($10.99), compared to what women can spend on face creams -- you know, the ones that promise 40+ women that they can look like an Emperor's Club "model" after twenty applications. I've used this face cream all winter, and I've noticed that I haven't aged a bit. There are no new wrinkles. I repeat, no new wrinkles. And, because it's local and green and all that, you can feel all virtuous when you buy this product. Less whorish. Available at your local health food store.

Fresh papaya and banana plate

There a few tiny pieces of guava on this plate, too, but I had eaten most of them before the photo.

Havana street at night

I won't bore you with....

my dream about Obama last night. He was smooth as silk, and whispered softly in my ear. I told him I had been thinking about Hillary, but that I was open....quite undecided, really. As a voter.
Turning now to the Cuban phone booth. I have a bit of a thing for phone booths since they are becoming relics. This one looks like something from outer space.

More Havana people-watching

More photos to come...but a brief interlude

I dreamt last night of Hillary Clinton. We were hanging out together. She was beautiful in her beige pant suit. In the dream, she convinced me to vote for her. She said, "That other guy doesn't know his ass from his elbow." In my dream, I was completely taken with Hillary -- her style, her mojo, her intellect. I was totally on the Hillary bandwagon. I was in love with Hillary.

People watching

I love people watching. It's fun to watch people at their freakiest (like the time in New York when I saw two women fighting because one had opened up an umbrella in the other woman's face. "Relax!" screamed one. "No, YOU relax!" screeched the other one.) But, what I really like is watching people resting.

Birds in a Cage

Clotheslines

I have a clothesline fetish.

Large American Car

"It's like riding on a cloud, my secret dream
my guilty pleasure, my flying machine
my ocean liner, my home on wheels
I can't tell you how good it feels" - from "Large American Car" by Jimmi Jetz of Astronaut Love Triangle.

Kids having fun

It's fun seeing kids really having fun. These boys are swimming in a little pool beside the Malecon. Look at the expression of the boy stretched out in the water on his back. Pure bliss!
The scene below is a couple of girls I saw playing. At first I thought they were rough-housing, then the interaction transformed into a hug.

amor en el parque

I discovered a sweet little community park in Vedado with beautiful mosaic benches. This one used old typewriter keys as tiles. While I was admiring the bench, I looked over and saw the love scene below.

Truckload of Condoms

I'm back...

I'm back from a delightful vacation in Havana. I will show a few pictures of my vacation, starting with this one. This is the toilet in the lobby of one of the places I stayed. Fun, eh? I did use one of these toilets, but didn't do the in tandem thing.
I'm currently going through a bit of re-entry shock here, but I think I'll be ok. I had hoped that winter would be over when I got back, but this doesn't seem to be the case.