Apocalyptic Dream

Here is my dream of this morning:

My house was slated to be razed, so I took the liberty of writing and painting all over the walls. I started to salvage some of the furniture, then realized that would be futile because ---- the apocalypse was coming!!!! The scene outside was chaos: big drunken parties with barfing people, and--for some reason--waterslides everywhere. People wanted to slide down waterslides as civilization as we know it was coming to a close. I took refuge in a grotty basement apartment with a young stoner who looked like a younger, chunkier George Stroumboulopoulos. He made a few advances, which--for some reason--I rejected, even though the apocalypse was coming!! We did get nicely stoned together, however, and then ended up in a caravan, migrating to a place that offered -- we weren't sure what. The apocalypse was still coming. We arrived at the place, and were assigned rusty old lockers. That's when I woke up.

Monkey Mind

As many of you, I am MEDITATING these days, or attempting to, at the local Buddhist centre. Nothing like meditation to make you realize how nuts you are. Here is an example of my mind in meditation today:

Boy, it's easier for me to sit in lotus position. I can thank the fucking hot room yoga hell for that. At least something good has come out that: I can sit on the floor properly. Feeling good. Feeling really good. I have got this meditation shit right down now. Enlightenment, here I come! Oh shit. My eye is itchy. Should I scratch it? No. Stillness. Stillness. Maybe it will go away. It's not. Damn! Maybe I have pink eye. Oh no, the other one is itchy now. Shit, I probably have pink eye in both fucking eyes. Where the hell did I get that? Oh, I think it's ok. Just opening my eyes a wee bit fixed it. Good. Ok. We're back. We're meditating. Too bad about Heath Ledger. He was hot. OK. back to the meditating. I hear kids screaming. They sound like a flock of gulls. I hear a truck backing up. It sounds like the beginning of Fur Elise. Da da daa da da daa daaaaaa. Back to the meditating. Maybe a mantra will help me focus again. What's my mantra? Oh shit, I forgot. I think there is an OM in there somewhere. Someone is wearing perfume. That shit should be banned everywhere. Back to the meditation. OM. I hope Zoom wins the contest. OM.

The Banality of Blogging

Today I woke up groggy, but after 2 cups of coffee, I was ok. I had to do a bit driving today. The roads were slippery, but not too bad. They don't plow the roads in Montreal as well as they do in good old Ottawa. My cat has been wired today. He got into the garbage last night. Today he destroyed a roll of toilet paper. Bad kitty! I did a fair bit of reading today, but the writing is not progressing. I need to reflect on this. Now I'm going to attempt another Bikram Hot Room Hell Yoga class. It's still snowing. I will walk there. Yawn.
Click on Rick Mercer's The Last Guy to Get His Own Blog . You will laugh.

Getting Through the Saddest Day of the Year

It's not easy to get through the saddest day of the year. Here are some Aggie recommendations.

1) Try to think like Buddha. Understand that sadness will pass, like a dark cloud. And if you've ever flown through a cloud, you know that clouds are just a whole lot of wet air.
2) Shop. If ever there was a day for retail therapy, this is it. I bought an alpaca sweater today that I love. And, an alpaca neck warmer. And, an alpaca hat. It's all soft and warm and beautiful. I know, the stock markets are crashing all around us. All the more reason to....shop!
3) Drink a bit, but not too much. It's a good evening for wine with dinner.
4) Take a bath with your finest bath products.
5) Read something inspirational. Julia Child's My Life in France will change your life. Read it.
6) Walk. I walked a lot today, and that was good.
7) Hula hoop.
8) Go online and check flights to warm places.
9) Play some salsa, or listen to Robert Plante meets Allison Krauss in Raising Sands(excellent CD, in my humble opinion).
10) Find a muse. Mine is currently Bob and his delightful rants.

Happy Saddest Day of the Year

I would like to wish you all a Happy Saddest Day of the Year. I recommend making the best of it. Whine. Get under the covers with trashy reading material. Eat chocolate. Wallow in it. It's going to get better. We are heading towards Fish or Cut Bait Day.

More High-End Personals

A few more snippets from the the high-end Personals (New York Review of Books, Jan.17, 2008). This time I've selected what these high-end folks are looking for:

"a nice man"
"a classy lady"
"a Manhattanite, artist preferred"
"a co-adventurer"
"a physically fit, sexually active, psychologically stable, politically informed, not religious or 'spiritual' for short..."
"an accomplished man"
"a financially solvent man"
"a progressive, TLC, single guy for life celebrations"
"a genuine mensch"
"a thoughtful woman refusing to be defined by her current disappointment"

I like this one, too: "Can you I sustain that magical flow of cultivated thought and creative sensuality?" A tall order, that one!

Newsflash: the inventer of the Hula Hoop just died!

The Research Advisor just sent me this, and said, "I hope 2008 isn't the year Aggie puts curses on people".

5BX, Bikram, Hula Hooping and Pole Dancing

Today I decided that to launch my new fitness plan, I should go to a Bikram Yoga class. It stunk-- literally. It's a stinky class because they turn up the heat and make it like a sauna, and people sweat a lot. The instructor was a 6'5" woman with shockingly large breasts. She was a scarey drill sargeant. This is not really yoga, is it? It's more like hell. I prefer the yoga classes where you lie on the floor in child's pose and the teacher is smiling and making you feel good about yourself. I got a special deal for an introductory first-week to Bikram, so I guess I'll go back for a little more hell. Ahhhh!!!!
Onto hula hooping. I'm a really good hula hooper, so I figured I should integrate this into my fitness regime, along with my 5BX program, as recommended by the Chair and others. Did you know that one minute of hula hooping burns the same number of calories as running an 8-minute mile, or doing a high-impact aerobics class? I found that on the internet, so it must be so!!
I've found a pole dancing course nearby, so stay tuned. Hard to believe I was thinking of going to a nunnery a few days ago.

The Nunnery didn't work out....

Ok, I didn't make it to the nunnery, folks. Not this week, anyway. The place is booked solid. Apparently, I was not the only person who thought this would be a good idea.
So, instead of chastity, solitude and silence, I'ved opted for shagging, lively social interaction, hot room yoga, and lots of reading.
This week I'm reading Jane Austen's Emma, Julia Child's My Life in France (thank you Jo Stockton!) and a little tiny book by Harry G. Frankfurt called On Bullshit.

Get thee to a nunnery

I've decided to go into isolation for a few days. I'm going to a nunnery. I'm leaving on Saturday. I will not be blogging from the nunnery. I will write about my nunnery experience when I get out.

High-end Personals

I love the Personals in the New York Review of Books. Here are some of the fabulous women featured in the 'Holiday Issue':

Smart and beautiful, yet unequivocally cute

Known for laser-like intellect balanced by warm heart and disarming ability to laugh at herself

Pilates toned, approachable, blonde widow

Aesthetically tuned, stylish, yet uncomplicated

Loves literature, Italy anywhere, Montana, Kenyan safari, warm ambiance of meals with friends, Ansel Adams, theater

Love the regular stuff -- golf, skiing, opera, books, music, and theater.

Left and right-brained, technologically up-to-date. Dog person. Ocean person.

Think grown-up Reese Witherspoon

Refined, yet uncomplicated -- can eat peanut butter straight from the jar, yet totally comfortable at White House dinner

Enjoys opera-going, cooking haute, and river-rafting

Award-winning career, yet completely unpretentious and down-to-earth

I Need A Retreat

Thanks to all of you who recommended books. My second request to you is to recommend a retreat. I am desperately in need of one. I am open to a yoga retreat, a writer's retreat, a meditation retreat, a spa retreat, or any combination of these. I need the retreat to be in a place that doesn't require a passport, since I still don't have one. I do not want anything that involves interpretative dancing, raw foods, mindful eating, colonic cleanses, or sitting around a circle with strangers and disclosing. Ideas?

Elizabeth *ay

Confession: I just realized that I thought Elizabeth May, head of the Green Party, was also Elizabeth Hay, the writer. I thought Elizabeth May must be some kind of goddess -- to lead the Green Party, and to churn out award-winning novels.
The following conversation alerted me to my error:

Person: Do you like Elizabeth Hay?
Me: I don't know her novels. But, I want to read her latest....I'm just amazed this woman has time to do what she does.
Person: Huh? What else does she do?
Me: Come on! Are you joking? Imagine the hours she puts in as leader of the Green Party.
Person: (Laughter.......Guffaws)... Oh Aggie dear, you are having another one of your dyslexic moments.

Holding a cat shower

This one is for Zoom, who has just adopted the gorgeous DUNCAN Donut.

-Invite friends
-Tell them to bring gifts for the cat
-Serve blackened catfish with El Gato Negro wine
-Make a cattail or pussy willow centrepiece for the table.
-Make a cake in the shape of cat's head. Use orange food colouring so that the cake will look like Duncan.
-Play party games like Pin the Tail on the Cat.

Other ideas?

What I Learned Today

I learned today that it is not a good idea to get your eyebrows done in a strange city from a stranger just because you have nothing better to do. You may end up looking like a cartoon character. I am looking tres Powerpuff Girl right now.

I need a book

I need a book. What I'm looking for is.... something to break the chill and boredom of January, something that will change me, something that will help me, something that is readable, something that will inspire me.
I was going to make this a contest-- like you get "dinner with Aggie at the Usual Spot" if you recommend the winning book. But, I don't want to have dinner with you. I just want to read the book.

Easing in

My sister-in-law made this cheesecake, which kicks ass. I suspect many of you are trying to get back on track with the healthy eating and exercise. So am I. But, I've decided I'm easing into the new year with this cheesecake.

I love Bob

I know you all know this already. And, I know that I should be writing about bigger things like resolutions, world politics, global warming. But, I simply want to begin this year by saying how much I love Bob. I loved the charming honesty of his latest rant about Ottawa freecycling. I adore his posts about his cats. They just melt my heart.
There are so many other wonderful blogs out there that deserve recognition. But, there is something about Bob.

New Year's Resolutions: What I want more of....

I've decided that this year's resolutions should be about what I want MORE of, rather than the usual what I should be doing less of.

Here's what I want more of:

Crafting
Shagging
Exercising
Meditating
Writing
Reading
Paradigm shifting

That's it. Is that too much to ask? I don't think so.

Not conducive to shagging...(the holidays continued)

So, I'm on the futon with my shagging partner who is hacking up a lung, but making efforts to get into a kind of romantic mood, when HIS MOTHER appears and sits on the edge of the bed with a flashlight and her cosmetic bag. At first, I think I'm having an acid flashback -- because this could not really be happening. But, no, it is indeed his mother sitting on the bed. "It's ok, Mom" he says, irritated. I still have no idea what is going on, and am peering at her from behind a sheet. She produces a cough drop from the cosmetic bag. "Here you go, dear," she says, and disappears into the darkness.
Yes, I'm ready for the holidays to be over.