we had easter dinner with my family. it's so nice out my parents had a barbecue. we had a long chat with my uncle who used to have a cottage on our lake. we talked about going up and i sort of wished i was there now.
in a few weeks the trilliums will be blooming.
I am a tv addict. If it's on I will watch it. EVERY TIME. Our television is on in our home for more than 4 hours a day, and lots of times as "background" while we're doing other things (which Kirk loves but drives me crazy since I can't NOT watch. seriously. it's pretty sad). I don't even want to admit how much it's on during weekends or how often I've fallen asleep in front of it. I would be afraid to sit down and calculate how much of my lifetime has been spent in front of the TV.
That being said. Kirk and I have decided to try turning it off for a week straight as part of Adbuster's TV Turnoff Week campaign. We tried Buy Nothing Day and it was was WAY harder than it seems, but possible. The point for us is not some political statement about how TV or shopping is inherently bad or evil, but a simple exercise in challenging the way in which we often do these activities automatically, with little or no consideration.
i'm home sick today. here's what's playing on my itunes.
Bongo Song - Annie
Balls Out - Bloodhound Gang
You Are a Runner and I am My Father's Son - Wolf Parade
The Glamorous Life - Paul Oakenfold
Primary - The Cure
I'm Down - Goldfinger
Wet Blanket - Metric
Go It Alone - Beck
Southern Girl - Rahzel
Gimme That - Sloan
Debaser - The Pixies
They Shoot Horses Don't They - Apostle of Hustle
Leave Me Alone - Butthole Surfers
I Am Not Surprised - The Organ
Prussia - Jake Fairley
Daft Punk Is Playing At My House - LCD Soundsystem
Huddle Formation - The Go! Team
Recently read in my inbox:
"Congratulations! Your portfolio presentation was strong and your application for admission to the Ontario College of Art & Design has been successful. On behalf of the University, I am delighted to extend the offer of admission to the first year, Bachelor of Fine Art program in the Faculty of Art."
HOLY CRAP. 
Yesterday afternoon we got a frantic call from Kirk's mum.
Apparently there had been an explosion at a Tim Horton's on Yonge near Bloor.
She called just to see if we were OK.
I was all, "uuuuuh, no, I didn't hear any explosions this afternoon"
"Are you sure?"
"I'm pretty sure I'd remember it if I had." (we live 25 city blocks from there)
Lotsa people freaked out and thought maybe the terrorists had finally come to Canada.
Idiots. "They'd have to be stupid bombers if they were aiming for the subway and hit a Tim Hortons," said TTC chairman Howard Moscoe, living up to his reputation for plain speaking. "It sounds like a tall tale."
Current theory: some loser who probably wanted to kill himself, dowsed himself with gasoline and set himself on fire. only the autopsy and jerry can of gasoline he carried in with him, found nearby, will tell.
for the last 2 weeks my life has been nothing but a series of days where i sleep, drink water, eat a little, blow my nose and cough. i have that deep chest, rattling cough that makes anyone within 10 feet of you cringe. anyway, i hope to eventually do something with this here corner of the blogopodcastwebnetsophere.
in the meantime, here are some paintings i finished recently:
this is a portrait i did last summer from one of my parents' wedding photos:
Cryptonomicon by Neal Stephenson: while a little long (1100 pages) this is an enjoyable read. at least it was once I decided to skim all the geeky math shit and lack of interesting female characters. stephenson is the d&d/gamer/math geek's clive cussler...but funnier...and not as predictable.
the moo gets so jealous when i pay too much attention to oscar. but how can you not??? 
i managed to get all my artwork strapped to a luggage carrier and had planned to walk it all the way to the school but figured it was safer to call a cab. I managed to drag the whole thing down the two flights of stairs to the door, praying that i would NOT sprain my fucking ankle again or some other completely ridiculous injury i generally sustain (seriously. i am a total klutz) when i'm nervous or not really focussed on what's in front of me - imagining the explanation i would need to give doctor as to why a whole canvas was lodged in my brain.
my cab pulled up just as i was hauling the awkward bulk out the door. i quickly realized i hadn't exactly considered canvas size versus mode of transportation size, but the cabbie jumped out, carefully placed it all in the trunk and assured me he would get me and my stuff there in one piece. sigh of relief. promise kept, he even helped me get it all to the front door. so either he was super nice, or he was pleased about the ridiculously huge tip. probably both.
i got all signed in a waited for about 10 minutes for someone to call my name. the waiting area was mostly filled with soon to be high school graduates and their parents who, besides faculty, were basically the only other people there over 30. when i finally made it to the interview room, i was told i had about 15 minutes to set up, which was fairly easy, except for the thought of having to manoeuvre the hulk on wheels i was dragging behind me through the rows of tables and chairs. so i chose a spot at the front of the room, also so i could use the whole corner wall space for leaning paintings, which worked incredibly well. then i had nothing to do but sit and wait to be interviewed by 2 faculty.
the first interviewer was nice enough, and seemed interested in me and my work. she told me that she LOVES mature students and hoped i would get in. the second interviewer didn't give me anything to go on at all. he took his job as seriously as only a middle aged i've-seen-it-all-so-you-don't-impress-me-bitch gay man can. i packed everything up again and wheeled it into the english placement test room, where i had to read and write a response to an article written by a current student.
then it was just over. sort of anticlimactic really (kind of like this post). anyway, now i have to wait until the end of may to find out if i get in.
is a funny, funny man.
the ricky gervais podcast series is almost done. download while you still can.
oh and the interview went well. post coming soon.
when i was 16, i won the 10th grade visual art achievement award. that year was one of the most exciting i had ever had. my crazy egyptian high school art teacher took a group of students to paris, france for a week. that and i had started dating my first boyfriend. anyway, it took about a whole month of wheedling and emotional manipulation for my mother and i to finally convince my father to let me go. we visited the louvre, the georges pompidou centre, the musee d'orsay, montmartre and all the usual tourist-y spots.
we also took a day long drive to brittany see mont st.michel which was a total nightmare. first of all it's about a 6.5 hour drive from paris to mont st michel. then about 10 minutes after we piled out of the van, i got my period and the WORST cramps in history. I spent the whole 2 hour visit there alternately sleeping in the van and puking my guts out into the atlantic ocean while my friends were visiting one of the most beautiful monastaries in france. then we drove back. THE SAME DAY.
ok. back to the award story. at the end of that school year, my teacher decided to grant me the visual arts academic achievement plaque at the awards ceremony, even though a good friend of mine had better grades. when he called my name, i was shocked. i was SO SURE she was going to win it. in fact i had wanted her to win it. she was so talented, focussed, competitive and dedicated. i was just having fun learning. she was livid, gave me the EVIL eye and a couple of her friends hissed and booed me as i walked up to the podium to accept the plaque.
i didn't know what to do. i felt so humiliated and happy at the same time. i mean, it was great to be recognized, but i wasn't willing to lose a friend over it. afterwards, i went to talk to the teacher, pleaded with him to give it to her. that SHE deserved it. he told me that it was HIS decision and he stood by it. i was crushed. she and i eventually made up but our friendship was never the same.
when i chose my courses for the following year, i decided i didn't want to deal with that shit and never took art again. the experience left me totally freaked out and creatively blocked. i tried to draw and paint on my own, but ended up hating everything i did as it just reminded me of the humiliation i felt. so i just stopped. i decided it was better to just appreciate it rather than make it. which is what i did until about 5 years ago when my mom gave me gift certificate to take art classes with katrina (i'm re-doing her website over the next few weeks so please don't hold it against her) which changed my life.
any now it looks about to change again. tomorrow is my interview at ocad and i'm super nervous. AND excited. if anyone is reading this, send me your positive vibes and high fives.
***
p.s. HOLY SHEEEEEIT! I think I'm gonna poop myself in jubilation.
| You Passed 8th Grade Science |
 Congratulations, you got 7/8 correct! |
12 inches of pure portable love.
in other new and exciting news, i also have a portfolio interview at ocad on valentine's day. if i get in, i'll be going to school full time in september. i went to the portfolio clinic a couple of weeks ago and got the low down on what to get ready, so i'm working on it. as part of the clinic we got to choose a 4-hour workshop to get an idea of what classes and instructors are like. i chose the encaustic workshop and SO dug the painting with wax. i definitely plan to do it again sometime.
here is the result.
besides the wax, i also used plastic and metal beads and gold leaf. nicole collins was the instructor and is a fantastic artist. you can see some of her work here.
i want one of these for my birthday.
as i've mentioned before, over the last few months kirk and i have been using public transit to get around instead of driving. with the city's problems with traffic and air pollution, it seemed like the logical thing to do.
It takes us each about 35 minutes door to door, driving took about 20. My brother recently moved out and my parents have a free spot in their garage, so we parked betty for the winter. we'll pull her out of storage when we start going back up to the cottage in the spring. -21oC (about -6oF) with the windchill winters are hard on the 18-year old volvo 240DL station wagon. the car is named betty after the betty page air freshener we bought when we got the car, which was subsequently stolen by some neighbourhood crackheads who went through the car the ONE time i forget to lock the doors. GAH! Damn you crackHEADS!!!
what this means is that i also walk more, which is a good thing since i bailed on the regular exercise thing about 4 months before my wedding, which i've neglected to post about but just needed to take a bit of a wedding hiatus. since the wedding i've been battling my inner-self-pitying procrastinatrix. i've started working out twice a week at a gym and it is KICKING MY ASS people.that and i kinda...sorta...well...ok I FUCKING SPRAINED MY ANKLE AGAIN OK. STOP ASKING ME WHAT'S WRONG ALREADY.
ahem.
oh yes, i am definitely a pleasure to be around right now.
cbc radio 3: the best coverage of new canadian music EVER.
distorted view: finally, another freak who thinks vomit porn and poop are funny. today's podcast covers news stories: umbrellas in your ass, toothy prostitutes, fuck that cancer away.
channel frederator: sweet cartoon shorts. if you or anyone you know makes animated movies, submit them NOW!!!
ongoing history of new music: the ONLY good thing left about what used to the the best radio in toronto.
happy tree friends: cute AND violent!
tiki bar tv: video podcast of cocktail recipes with kooky story lines and pretty ladies.
any other suggestions?
dear internet,
i'm still here. just busy.
in case you were wondering what the hell i've been doing, here's the short version of what's been going on.
i'm taking an online correspondance course in project management. working on getting all my wedding loose ends tied up. and then there's a nasty sinus infection thing going around that i'm trying to avoid, which is becoming increasingly difficult since we decided to park our car for the rest of the winter. i mean, public transit, while convenient, breeds that kind of viral shit. for christmas my brother got me a membership to the gym he works at, so this week i've started going. since i stopped working out last June i've gained 10 pounds, 2 dress sizes, and a whole lotta clothes that don't fit me so well anymore. must. stop. ass. spreadage. NOW. oh and i'm totally breaking out from the cold, dry weather. and my dust allergies are causing major inflammation in my nasal passage which makes me feel like i have a big gaping whole in the middle of my face, which makes working in a lumber yard just that much MORE fun. did i mention that i've also applied to art school to start full time in september?
yes, that was the short version. trust me, you don't want the long version. my loving and patient husbie can attest to that.
anyway, until my next post, for your listening pleasure, i have posted my very first iMix on the iTunes Music Store titled: the shmoopdeck's top 50 downloads of 2005. enjoy.
don't have iTunes? next time i'll post the playlist, tonight i'm just too damned tired.
hugs,
poops.
mustaches for kids update : $3633.18 raised.
ok so here is kirk's week 5 'stache.
thanks to everyone for their kind words. my aunt was a fantastic lady and a gifted artist. i'm really going to miss her.
like many, i've been sucked into the christmas vortex and am busy as all hell (which is kinda weird because i'm pretty sure i'm not a christian anymore). i think we're having dinner with friends and/or family every day for the next 9 days and won't have much time for you, dear internet.
that being said, i sincerely wish you some relaxing, guilt-free holidays.
stressed-out guilt is for LOSERS.
p.s. vote for chris christmas rodriguez.
She died of complications following a year long battle with some weird fucked up form of brain cancer. Originally, I wrote this big long post about how the medical community doesn't know shit about assisting dying people to die with dignity. But when I re-read it it was mostly incoherent, so I'll post again later.
Mustaches for Kids Toronto has raised almost $2200 so far and 1 week left before the big mustache ball. Kirk went to get his Week 5 photo taken tonight, but here's the Week 4.
This is my most recent painting. It's from a photo given to me by my friend Howard. It's is his village in Newfoundland.
On the way home last night from a massage (oh god, EVERYONE should have one) I passed this house. I was momentarily blinded by its radiance and had to go back and take a picture. 
This is what my neighbourhood looked like this morning. 
Since I woke up late, it was a bit of an inconvenience. That's because everyone in Toronto is retarded the first time the snow flies. For examples, read THIS and THIS. What makes driving in Toronto even more terrifying than a measely 10 cm (4in) snowfall? THIS.
I currently am sifting through 600 photos to sort out an online photo gallery of the wedding and another 300 for the honeymoon. It's taking longer than I had expected it would. It's coming soon, I promise.
We're not back for a whole week and Kirk is already busy growing a mustache for the Make a Wish Foundation here in Toronto.
See his progress and pledge a donation at http://www.m4ktoronto.org.
Wedding & honeymoon photos coming soon!
thanks for the well wishes!!! just stopping in to a cybercafe just outside of scarborough, tobago. man is it HOT here. so far we are having a great time. our wedding was so much fun, i'll have to tell you all about it when we get back to toronto. suffice it to say many, many shots of sambuca and limoncello were involved as well as way more food than most people could possible consume in one evening.
well. tonight is my last night as an unmarried harlot living in sin with her "get-the-milk-for-free" bohunk.
tonight we had our rehearsal dinner at my parents place and we had a great time. afterwards i checked out this AWESOME halloween party as bridezilla and was about to climb into bed when i realized, HOLY SHIT, I'm not going to even SEE a computer for the next 12 days.
on sunday, we fly out to trinidad and tobago, where i hope to enjoy tropical storm/hurricane-free weather, and lots and lots of sleeping.
and sexing.
awwwwwww yeahhhhh
peace out.
There is so much going on right now. Wow. Ok, so I'm getting married in 10 days. A Halloween wedding. I'm super excited.
With my past event management experience, I've pretty much managed not go all bridezilla on everyone. Mostly.
We've sorted out the venue, the marriage licence, met with the officiant, wrote the ceremony, bought the cake, booked the flowers, made the guests' takeaway gift, picked up dress, suit, booked the honeymoon(sigh. honeymoon. i want to be there. right. now.). What's left?
1. Decoration of the ceremony and reception area. We're going with a harvest kinda theme. The halloween part? Everyone's going to get halloween candy, and a Nightmare before Christmas/Corpse Bride-inspired cake and the whole bridal party will be dressed in black on black except me in ivory and silver.
2. Practice dancing. As I mentioned before, Kirk doesn't really enjoy the whole dancing thing. Hence the practicing. Which is great because we're finally starting to really move together. I have to admit I was a little worried that we'd end up looking like we were in the 6th grade at our first boy/girl dance.
3. Program a soundtrack for the evening. We need to cover the ceremony, reception and our first dance. Here are some of the tracks we're thinking about including:
Ice Cream - Sarah McLachlan
Anniversary Song - Cowboy Junkies
Wedding Song - Bob Dylan
We Are Going To Be Friends - The White Stripes
Mushaboom - Feist
Any other music suggestions?
It's a good thing we've got most of it done early. I am so busy at work right now it's not even funny. Oh, and I fell on the stairs again and smashed my other leg. I was carrying a lot of shit up the stairs and the toe of my boot caught a step and well, let's just say it's a good thing I'm wearing a long dress.
Vice Magazine - Kill Your Parents issue
I think there's a lot of really great writing and pointed arguments about the the baby boomer generation in this issue. That being said, I still love my parents and don't really want to kill them.
My parents are of that generation and while I would do everything in my power to make sure they are loved and cared for as they age, just as they did for me as a child, I've made it pretty clear to them, that it's THEIR responsibility to prepare for their future financially.My brother and I will never be able to afford to support them with the lifestyle to which they've become accustomed. Hell, we can't even truly afford to support ourselves with the lifestyle we were accustomed to at home with them.
A few years ago, Kirk and I decided that RRSP's and the concept of retirement is BULLSHIT.
Why the hell, should I give a significant percentage of my earnings to some other person who's going to do something better with it than PAYING OFF OUR MORTGAGE. Because lets just face it, the ONLY way to own a home these days is to carry a mortgage. If I have a third of my earnings goes to taxes, another third to my mortgage, then most of that third is spent on school loans, car lease, insurance, property taxes and credit cards oh and eating and let's not forget entertainment. WHY THE FUCK would I take what little I have I have left and save it for my "retirement". I'm 31 years old! Who the hell knows what the world will be like in another 30 years. I need to see that I've worked for something tangible. Something real. NOW.That's why Kirk and I decided to bust our asses to own land. Seriously, real estate is the only way to go.
| You Are 40% Boyish and 60% Girlish |
You are pretty evenly split down the middle - a total eunuch. Okay, kidding about the eunuch part. But you do get along with both sexes. You reject traditional gender roles. However, you don't actively fight them. You're just you. You don't try to be what people expect you to be. |
One of my new favourite albums is Fischerspooner's Odyssey. I recently downloaded a bunch of tracks off of iTunes and I'm dancing my ass off over here. I've been checking out their dance/electronic section and I realize that I miss DANCING.
When I was in grade school I took ballet. In high school I loved going to dances. Not for the boys, but for the ass kicking jams of the late 80's.
From the ages of 17 to 23 I spent more time at raves and dance clubs than I did at home (Yes. like all good Italian girls I lived at home.) But hell, man, I used to KICK IT! Yeaaaah.
Like all good Italian girls, I was also in school full time and had a part-time job working 24 hours a week. But I was not very good at being good. I danced a lot, drank a lot, smoked A LOT of cigarettes and sometimes do some drugs 3 to 4 nights a week. After a few years I started to mostly just feel like shit a lot.
Then I moved out, did more of the previously mentioned stuff, then mostly just slept a lot.
Then I met Kirk. He was my perfect partner in crime. Then we quit the hard rocking life together. Perfect. Except for the part where he HATES DANCING. I haven't gone out dancing in oh, like 2 years. That's so pathetic.
What's even more pathetic is that my wedding is in 5 weeks and the part I'm most looking forward to, besides the honeymoon in Tobago, is the dancing.
Other recent iTunes downloads that I listen to A LOT:
Rasputina - Barracuda
Gorillaz - Dirty Harry
Apostle of Hustle - Baby, You're in Luck
Ashley McIsaac - Bitch
Princess Superstar - Quitting Smoking Song
Bing Ji Ling - Where is Your Love?
Telepopmusik - Don't Look Back
Soul Hooligan - Algebra
Brazilian Girls - Don't Stop
Billy Talent - Line and Sinker
Death From Above 1979 - Little Girl (Live)
The Mars Volta - L'Via L'Viaquez
Mos Def - Sex, Love, Money
And for Squid.
THIS is a TIM HORTONS
Note the super long drive-thru lineup.
You know, to actually earn all the ridiculously generous gifts from the loving and supportive family and friends in attendance.
i'm home today with a blinding headache but just took a moment to read the paper online. I am so totally moved by the total devastation in the Gulf States in the wake of Hurricane Katrina, as well as by the resiliency of it's citizens. I'm sitting here sobbing, partially because of the headache but mostly from overwhelming empathy.
Right now all I really want to do is hate on the day I've had, but since it involved my work situation, I'm going to have to go ahead and not share any of that with you.
What I can say though, is that over the last 2 days I have ingested more fried food than a person should, really. While it was incredibly delicious, I am now paying for it.
Oh man, I'm so totally PMSsing right now, ya'll.
Poor Kirk.
Last weekend was Kirk's 31st birthday. We had both managed to get Friday off. That meant 2 whole days up north! Excellent. The usual 2-hour drive that we had planned meant we'd be at the cottage in time for a swim and a margarita. With Melissa and Melissa coming up on Saturday, it promised to be a fabulous weekend.
All was going according to The Plan From Which No One Must Deviate. Except for the whole part where 20 minutes en route and the sky opened up and pooped on the entire Greater Toronto Area.
Thankfully I had decided that the drive home rush (which starts at 3 pm on Friday afternoons) was too much of a pain in the ass to stay on the Don Valley Parkway. I figured we'd just snake our way north and east, so we got off at Don Mills.
Almost as soon as I was relieved that we were way better off than those chumps on the DVP, I was driving blind. All I could see through the rain were the flashing hazard lights of other vehicles, which were the only things keeping me from veering off the road.
Lightning. Thunder. Oscar on the floor of Betty, our Volvo 240 DL station wagon.
I gunned the engine through a river of water for about 3km (which is mostly uphill). It came up to the top of the tires, forming a wake behind the car that splashed into the front windows. They were open so that the whole car wouldn't fog up and we'd really be fucked. Because of some lame-ass power outage, most of the lights at intersections were not operational, meaning they had to be treated like a 4-way stop.
(A major rule of the road, which many TOTAL ASSHOLES, more eager to get home than to care about the other people on the road, didn't bother to observe.) This took half an hour.
We pull over at a safe spot for a few minutes after about 45 minutes of the most intense driving I've done in ages. Some church parking lot. I needed to stop. I had to relax for a few minutes so I didn't kill us all by totally freaking out.
We turn on AM 640 and listen to the updates. Tornado and funnel cloud reports in the east end. Massive flooding in the north and centre of the city. OK then. After about 5 minutes, we realize that the parking lot has only one exit and the water at the foot of the driveway is rising, with the sewers incapable of holding the deluge. I wait for a gap in traffic and slam my foot on the gas and gave'er.
We made it through, but not unscathed. By the time we were far enough north to be out of the major weather pattern, an hour later, we were stuck in the drive home rush hour in suburban industrial wasteland. Anyone who has spent ANY time behind a vehicle in the GTA knows that traffic here is astronomically FUCKED UP. I had to ride the clutch the whole way, 'cause every time I stopped the car (and Toronto rush hour traffic means lots and lots of stopping), she would stall.
Once we got past the suburbs and made it to the country, it was smooth sailing. Five hours after we left home, we made it.
As soon as we dragged our provisions down to the cabin, Kirk and I slammed back a shot of Cuervo Gold and declared the Birthday Weekend ON! It was too cold out for margaritas so we settled for the Tequila.
Anyway, here are some photos that I took over the weekend.
This is Kirk. He turned 31 on August 21, 2005. He was such a good little cowboy, he got 2 r/c toys this year!
This is the birthday card Kirk received from The Melissas.
oscar a.k.a. senior puppypants a.k.a monkey boy a.k.a. swimming machine
Here is Oscar hanging out in the infamous outhouse a.k.a. die auspumpenhutte. This is where he hides during thunderstorms, far off gun shots and fireworks.
This is me in my favourite Black Death Malt Liquor t-shirt.
Anyway. we didn't get any pictures of the storm because well, we weren't really thinking of it at the time, and the camera was packed in the trunk. meh. The rest of the weekend was exactly what we needed. relaxing. And now we're back to the same old grind. Working, sleeping, eating, cleaning and wedding planning. Yes, we're still getting married in October. More about that some other time. Maybe.
Here is a movie that I most definitely need to find a way to see
Most informative and well-written Sunshine Girl bio EVAR.
Bruce Campbell seems like a huge lovable prick. How can you NOT love him???
Dear dude on my street with his right hand up his bum,
Don't do it......don't smell your.........gaaaaaaaahahhhhh...he fucking did it.
I just found my copy of The Big Book of Bodily Functions. I highly recommend it.
Some new favourite expressions:
yen-shee baby
mexican lipstick
a cunt and a clap
full as a seaside shithouse on Boxing Day
to have a mouth like a nun's minge
Old standards:
turd-cutter
fudge baby
queef
dick splash
shit a brick
cock cheese
pork sword
bearded taco
Kind of weirded out by and don't really understand :
shake hands with the baby
smell the badger's touch-hole
Until I get photographic evidence of our outhouse's size to appease the Squid, here's a picture I took last weekend. 
See the rest here.
The pictures on the right show what I managed to accomplish this weekend within the first 10 minutes of being awake on Saturday morning. I had stayed in bed as long as possible and was therefore forced to RUN like the wind to get to the outhouse. Which is uphill from the cabin (everything is uphill from the cabin).
After the third step up the hill, I tripped and smashed my right shin into the next step up, then fell over onto the same step on my right side. My very poorly thought out plan was thwarted by my stupid fucking sports sandals. The toe caught one of the steps which is made of two 2 by 6's holding back a crapload of dirt. The step I hit was also made up of a couple 2 by 6's which was left dented. My shin was also stayed dented for about a half hour. I didn't get any photographic evidence of either dent due to the SEARING pain that was shooting up my leg as well as needing whatever focus I had left so as not to lost total bladder control. But you can see the steps in the 3rd photo there. Fucking stairs.
Anyway, I made it to the outhouse and spent an enjoyable weekend of swimming, eating, drinking and reading. Today it feels like someone tried to break my legs. The right shin is still a bit swollen and still hasn't bruised yet. I may have to go see a doctor. Fucking outhouses.
Here's what Kirk managed to accomplish on the sleeping cabin up from the main one. He go the windows at the Habitat for Humanity ReStore. He's definitely a keeper.
Internet, I banish thee to the 7th Rim of Hell!!!!!!!!
buahahahaaahahahhaha...
hahhhahhahehaha...
hehe...
he...
h...
ack..
ahem
A friend of mine is a nurse in a palliative care facility. Yesterday her assistant was called to one of their resident's rooms for help. An elderly gentleman (I use this term loosely) wanted to shower and needed her help. When she arrived he was naked and sittin gin a chair. He was holding a bottle of shampoo and asked her to pour the shampoo for him...ON HIS CROTCH. Being the consummate professional that she is, she didn't really think anything of it, poured the shampoo and left. A few minutes later the same person calls for her again and as she opens the bathroom door he BLOWS his load all over himself and tells her that they make a great team. The poor woman worked the rest of her shift like a trooper since she had the next day off. I don't know how she managed. I felt sick just hearing about it.
Then this morning, I was stopped at a red light on my way to work and glanced in the rearview mirror. Only to be presented with the lovely image of some dude in the car behind me who was totally wanking it. I thought...no way...that's not...he wouldn't... Then as I drove away I checked the rearview again (HEY, it's a rearview and I was driving) and I noticed he was bouncing up and down and he kept throwing his head back and was driving with his left hand only.
I was so grossed out I totally had to tell EVERYONE at work about it. And now I'm telling the INTERNET.
Just sharing the love y'all.
These are my cousin marie's twin boys. I'm just trying out blogger's new photo tool.
Please enjoy these whilst I continue the gravy making.
Currently the thermometer is hovering around 32 degrees (that's 89 degrees american).
INSIDE MY APARTMENT.
Including the humidex: feels about 40 (or 104) degrees.
yikes!
I've been blessed with heat rashes, intense sweats and even more intense desires to bludgeon all who invade my personal space.
I wish I could live at my cottage all summer long. I NEED that lake. NOW.
...sigh...poor Kirk...
As far as weblogs go...pretty fucking hilarious.
The Darth Side comes in as a close second. (thanks Dave!)
To: The Internet
From: The Shmoopiest Poopee Ever
I know this is going to sound really lame and all, but HOLY CRAP, my life has lately been all about family crises, wedding planning, working, eating, sleeping, driving, cleaning a little painting and sometimes even breathing.
I'm not sure if you noticed but blogging isn't on this list at all.
sigh
Here's a couple of shots of the new tile in our bathroom. My dad's buddy Vito came over earlier this week to rip out the rotten drywall that was in there and replaced it with THIS:
Oh it pays to work at a lumber yard. I get awesome discounts on materials. Thanks goodness, or else we could NEVER afford to have someone do it up for us!
This is a shot I took of the ceiling at Toronto's Royal Ontario Museum.
This week's photo friday challenge
10
He was able to calm my mother down after some asshole smashed one of our car windows which made it impossible for us to leave for our road trip to Halifax on time. We were stopping in Quebec City to drop off a relative who had been staying with my parents. My mother HATES it when things don't happen as scheduled. She freaked out on me and I was ready to tear her throat out but he took a few minutes with her on the phone and all was well. The only other man with that kind of power is my father.
9
He forgave all my crabby remarks while we were both quarantined to our bed all weekend for being infected with the NEVER ENDING COLD. (Seriously, I'm still blowing my nose after 5 days. What's up with that?)
8
The first time we ever hung out, we were out with a large group of friends. We all had had a few drinks, and it was late. I sat next to him on a sofa in the lounge area at the skateboard park run by a friend of ours. I lay my head on his shoulder and felt right at home. I know it sounds corny, but it's true.
7
He has a great sense of humour and can make me giggle even when I'm trying really hard to maintain my hard ass composure.
6
He has the softest lips and is an AWESOME kisser.
5
He was willing to be the sole breadwinner so that I could quit my job to avoid an impending nervous breakdown.
4
He has the most pinchable bum EVAR.
3
Yesterday he told me I was beautiful even though I was actually looking more like Robert Downey Jr. on a bender.
2
He loves me in spite of all my flaws. I mean, he still wants to marry me even though I was a dumbass when I said "What took you so long?"
1
We are not only lovers but best friends. A best friend is always willing to be open and honest, even when it hurts. And he is. And sometimes it does. In the end, our relationship always comes first.
I haven't slept well over the last few days and am grumpy as hell. I also now have a cold, thanks to the hundreds of sheets of paper I touch every day that have been touched by who knows how many other potentially sick people. It's the second cold I've had since I started working there.
Not a big deal to some, but considering before this job I had a cold maybe once a year, it's a big deal to me. COLDS SUCK. GERMS SUCK. That's why I wash my hands every 30 minutes or so and avoid touching my face unless my hands are clean. The worst part about that is my hands are super dry and all the skin around my cuticles is peeling, no matter how much cream I use. Not that it seems to matter any 'cause I still got sick anyway.
On the bright side, I still haven't ever wanted to set myself on fire.
update
I just sneezed 9 times in a row. That's GOT to be some kind of record.
update
I just checked the Guiness World Records website. According to them:
The longest sneezing bout ever recorded was that of 12-year-old schoolgirl Donna Griffiths of Worcestershire, UK. She started sneezing on January 13, 1981, sneezed an estimated million times in the first 365 days, and achieved her first sneeze-free day on September 16, 1983 - the 978th day. Her sneezing put Donna's face on the pages of newspapers around the world. Well-wishers inundated her with handkerchiefs and letters suggesting different cures. At the beginning, her sneezes erupted every minute but at the end they slowed down to one every five minutes. "I'm determined not to let it stop me from doing the things I like. I love swimming and I swim for the school," she said.
Today I turned 31.
All in all it was a pretty good day. Work was fine - the usual. When I got home Kirk and I took Oscar out for a run in the fresh snow in the alleyway behind our building. Sadly we have no yard. ANYWAY, after that we joined Kathleen for a fabulous dinner at Cyrano's.
Now I am so full of booze and entrees and dessert that my only next move will to be fall asleep immediately after I finish typing thi........zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.............
Kathleen and I went wedding dress shopping last week. Some mid-town wedding dress depot in a fairly industrial area.
I was pretty nervous AND excited. After that year sabbatical which turned into a year and a half of recovery from getting smashed on the hood of some fucknut's mini-van, and after going into some debt to buy our cottage, I haven't had much opportunity to indulge in clothing consumerism as much as my inner fashionista would like me to. Now here I was, about to try on dresses that cost more that what I spent on clothes in the last 3 years! *
I found one dress that I liked and would have had a picture of me in it, but one of the store "attendants" hissed at me shortly after taking that one photo.
* I did go to Montreal last spring with my mum and bought a bunch of stuff that I love. But I was then a size 12 and am now a size 10. HUZZAH! you say? I wholeheartedly agree, except for the part where most of my clothes are either awesome but ill-filling or old, hole-y and patched. ...sigh...
I have just had my back deep-tissue massaged and holy smokes I am SERIOUSLY pre-menstrual. Oh joy. Evening's looking up though. Kirk rented Hebrew Hammer.
Rick Mercer's Sunday Report
Who else but Rick Mercer could get Pierre Berton to teach the Monday Report viewers to roll a joint (check October back issues for video). HUZZAH.
The Newsroom
If you liked The Office, you'll LOVE Ken Finkleman's George Findlay.
Carnivale
Possibly the most engrossing drama on television. Plus, it's got carnies!
OH and I'm soooooooo looking forward to the new motherfuckingcocksucking season of Deadwood
I never thought I'd be so attached to my name, but I am.
I was worried for a while that maybe Kirk might be offended that I didn't want to take his name. So of course, for the last few weeks, I've just totally avoided the subject altogether. He wasn't. Not at all. In fact, he told me that it was MY name and that it was totally up to me, that he would love me no matter what.
I love him so much I could just EXPLODE.
In the end I decided that I'm going to keep my last name for legal purposes, but would be happy to be called Mrs. Kirk when it suits us best.
(Oh, and we've decided that if/when we have children, they'll get both of our names - probably not hyphenated though, we'd be talking six syllables.)
Whether or not to take Kirk's name once we're married.
Here's something cute to melt your heart by while you think about it.
I was just watching Lake Placid (instead of painting). Betty White is KILLER.
Anyway, here's another inneresting Party Shuffle 15 of 5055 available songs stored on our portable Firewire drive:
Mudd Club - Frank Zappa
Echoes of Harlem - Roy Eldridge
The Thrill Is Gone - BB King
Ready or Not - The Fugees
Lapdance - N.E.R.D.
I Don't Wanna Be A Player - Incubus & Big Punisher
I Will - The Beatles
Roll'em Pete - Joe Williams
Consequence - Incubus
Moonrise - Nitin Sawhney
Fever - Kylie Minogue
Shelter - Rage Agains The Machine
Mary - Sarah Slean
Feelin' Good - Nina Simone (Joe Claussell Remix)
B-Boy Boullabaisse - The Beastie Boys
Conehead - Frank Zappa
Kirk and I are getting married on October 29, 2005. A Hallowe'en wedding. I'm so excited I could pee! I haven't planned a real party in YEARS.
As I mentioned before, My dad is STOKED, so our meal will be standard Italian-Canadian fare. I'm already kinda feeling full just thinking about it:
Trying out a new template. Linkage ('cause I'm an ASS and never bothered to save them)and other sundry items to come later.
Man, I need to geek out more. Since I started working in a non-Internet-enabled office, I barely ever have time to mess around with my 'puter.
Kirk: Did you know that Debbie Gibson's going to be in Playboy?
Me: [watching Harry Potter and The Prisoner Of Azkhaban]
Kirk: Did you even hear what I just said?
Me: Yes but don't really care about seeing Debbie Gibson naked. Do you?
Kirk: [long thoughtful pause] Maybe.
It's been hard to post the last few days. Wedding plans are in a holding pattern as I'm in the middle of tough negotiations with a couple of banquet halls. My dad's footing a large part of the bill and I knew he'd want to have a big Italian wedding reception and they're THE best place to throw one of those. (Watch the Wedding Singer if you need some reference material Anyway, I'm hoping that by Tuesday I'll have the place booked, nail down a date, AND then find someone to officiate. Kirk and I are still a little fuzzy on the whole spiritual/god/religion/faith thing so we're definitely going with a civil service.
Today was my grandmother's 82nd birthday. HAPPY BIRTHDAY NONNA MARIA!
We stopped in and visited with my family for a while. It seems that the appearance of babies in the last few years has definitely made it easier for everyone to get along. We're too busy marvelling at all the cuteness to be bothered by the usual irrirants. I ate way too much pizza and cake (standard italian canadian birthday party menu) and baby hands and cheeks.
I didn't think that my aunt Deb and uncle Vic we're going to make it. Deb's been fighthing a very agressive brain tumor for the last couple of months. Her neurosurgeon managed to remove a small portion of it last November and then intensive radiation treatments, five days a week for five weeks. Halfway through the treatments she started having seizures every few days. They did end up making it after all and I was shocked to see how her condition had so deteriorated since I saw her last at the beginning of December. She has lost most of her hair, is unrecognizably swollen and is losing muscle control in her right arm. There's been some talk of more surgery and chemo, but after seeing her, I wonder if she'd survive such an ordeal.
She told me she so hopes to be there on my wedding day. Even with everything she's gone through she still told me to call on her if I needed anything. All I could do to not start bawling was to hug her and tell her that I love her.
It's 9:30 am on Sunday morning and I am supposed to be cleaning. I tried...I really did, but dammit I MUST have music. So, I booted up the iMac, loaded up the iTunes party shuffle and here's what I got.
Fu-Gee-La (Refugee Camp Remix) - The Fugees
Rag Mama Rag - The Band
Bomb The World (Armageddon Version) - Michael Franti & Spearhead
Flame - Sebadoh
Suicide Chump - Frank Zappa
Perfect Silence - Scapegoat Wax
All You Facists - Billy Bragg and Wilco
Oh Canada - Rheostatics
Drafted Again - Frank Zappa
Absolute Beginners - David Bowie
War - Outkast
Sound and Vision - David Bowie
Julia - The Beatles
Tango Shoes - Bif Naked
Trance - Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan
Now that I've shown you mine, please show me yours!
I almost never remember my dreams but when I do it's usually a doozy. The last one happened about a month ago. I remember the dream vaguely but I found some notes today that I had taken that morning.
Here's what I can decipher from my chicken scratch:
It's the present, or some dystopian near future, where all semblance of social, political and economic order in North America are just GONE. Over night. The power grid and telecommunications systems are out. And I am alone and pregnant. Kirk is somewhere in Texas on business and there's no way to get in touch with him. All I know is that I have to leave immediately to find him.
I grab a knapsack and fill it with as much food and valuables as I can safely carry. I don't have any cash, so I fill my pockets with change from the change jar. I leave on foot and things are in total chaos. People are looting and beating each other. I'm totally freaked out, but keep as clear from others as I can travelling on foot.
Suddenly I'm getting out of a vehicle, having hitched a ride from someone. I'm on the side of a highway at an abandoned truck stop somewhere in Texas. It's late evening and I cross a field into a seemingly deserted suburban-type neighbourhood. Suddenly I hear shouts and gunshots far enough away that I'm not immediately terrified, but close enough that I know I need to find shelter FAST and before nightfall.
I sneak into a nearby backyard and see some small children playing in a sandbox in the next yard over. They look like they haven't eaten in days. My stomach grumbles in sympathy and I check my knapsack. All I have left is a stale loaf of bread. The shouts are getting closer now. I go around to the other side of the house and can see a group of people arguing, then fighting, savagely beating each other.
For some reason that's when the baby in my belly kicks for the first time and I gasp loudly, surprised by the sensation. I don't wait around to find out if they heard me, I immediately turn and run towards the children. I want to get them, and me out of there. I figure if those kids survived this long they must know a good hiding spot. They're surprised to see me, but don't run from me. I offer them my loaf of bread in exchange for asylum and as they reach for it their father comes storming out of nowhere holding a gun. I suddenly realize that he has something to do with the gunshots I heard earlier. I try to explain that I just need a place to stay for the night and he won't listen, he's threatening me. I tell him I'm pregnant and I need help, he points the gun at me and I bolt.
I don't hear any shots fired but I can't stop running. After a while, I'm gasping for breath and have to stop. Somehow I'm back near the truckstop and I can feel that Kirk is close by. I can see lights in one of the abandoned buildings. It's a small house that wasn't there the first time I was there. I walk up to it and knock on the door. A small group have barricaded themselves inside but open a window and let me in. They give me food and tell me I can rest here for the night but then I have to leave with them in the morning. It's not safe here.
I peer out of the window and notice 6 or 7 police cruisers doing donuts in the field I had crossed earlier but now instead of grass it's a field of mud. They're spinning around and around and around and all of a sudden the house we're in starts spinning like the cruisers. Then the cruisers turn into houses and we're all spinning around like some insane carnival ride. Instead of being scared all of us in the house are having fun and we're all shouting "Wheeeeeeeeeeee!"
That's when I wake up and it's 5 minutes before my alarm is supposed to go off.
Last night Kirk and I went to a bridal show. I was going to go with my mom, but she had to work late, so Kirk offered to go with me.
Yes. He IS a keeper.
Within the first 3 minutes of entering the show, we were handed a plastic bag with 2 500-page wedding magazines. After about half an hour, we needed a frickin' sherpa to carry around the 30 lbs worth of paper that people were giving away. Some of it useful, but most of it unwanted, thrust into my hands before I even realized what was happening.
We were especially charmed by this one dude selling men's formal wear. Oily-haired, smarmy and unnaturally energetic, he cloyingly peddled his tuxedo rental information package to each man that walked by, which was often considering his booth was on the main aisle. After the third time we passed his booth, Kirk turned to me and said "We all look the same to them don't we?". To which I replied, "Pretty much. Keep in mind it's only day 1 of a 3-day show. That guy's going to be a total mess on Sunday."
Despide the hoardes of the cheesy DJs, videographers and limo companies, we did meet a couple of approachable, informative people folks, and we were sort of grateful for an opportunity to actually make some decisions about how much we could afford to do vs. how much we actually wanted to do. There were lots of great ideas for cakes, invitations, flowers and I got some more info on one of the venues I've got an appoinment with next Monday. Oh the wedding dresses that were modeled.
After watching about 15 minutes of the bridalwear fashion show, I decided that I absolutely do not want a big pouffy, flouncy, cream puff of a dress. Nor one that requires it's own attendant. I want something simple, sophisticated and sexy - more Sophia Loren than Cinderella.
I was going to go to a giant wedding dress sale today but I've had my fill of the wedding industry and wedding planning for a few days. Instead I went to paint at the studio and finally managed to get that workout in.
My left rotator cuff and left hip are a little fucked up right now. Turns out that sitting and lying down a lot and doing little physical exertion irritates old injuries from that time that that car hit me while I was crossing the street over 2 years ago. I am never going that long without working out EVER again.
Fybromyalgia anyone? None for me thanks, I exercise!
Seriously, no one was meant to do that much lying and sitting.
Front page news from Kirk's hometown: Tim Horton welcomed by Tim Hortons
So New Year's wasn't very hangover-y but it was still pretty damned yummy. I roasted a chicken, made some risotto with broccoli and ate that with some rolls that Kirk had baked the night before. Booze-wise we drank a bottle of wine, had some chocolate martinis and topped it off with some sparkling wine at midnight. We've basically spent the last few days holed up in our little home, eating and lounging, only venturing out to walk the dog. It's been sweet and romantic and TOTALLY lazy. Now, I'm trying to decide if I was really serious when I said I was going to work out today. My last day off before going back to work.
Anyway, while I mull that over, here is a list of things of stuff I'd like to do (in no particular order) in 2005:
My cold is definitely getting better but I'm still a little congested. Last Sunday I totally lost my voice, now I sound like a breathless Kathleen Turner, which everyone agrees is kinda sexy.
I have been doing waaaaaaay too much sitting and lying down over the last three weeks, and absolutely no working out. Now my formerly injured left shoulder, hip and knee are starting to get all stiff and sore. So most of the time, I actually sound more like a very grumpy, breathless Kathleen Turner.
The workouts will resume Monday afternoon.
Perfect! Just enough time to get over the New Year's hangover I'm planning.
My Internet access has been wonky the last few days, which has been fairly convenient seeing as I've also been sick with a nasty headcold AND have the worst cramps of the year.
YAY.
I was living in a crazy bubble of sickness for days. I hadn't read a paper, listened to the radio or watched anything on TV that wasn't movies at all the whole weekend. Then Melissa came over yesterday to take Oscar for a walk for us and she told me about about the Asian Tsunami. Talk about a reality check.
I'm donating all my Christmas money to the Canadian Red Cross.
I'm sitting here thinking about what to say about the last few days and how shitty they've been. Instead, I'm sitting here, in total bliss, listening to this CD that Melissa gave me yesterday for Christmas.
Feist it sultry, sexy, soulful AND sweet. I haven't seen or heard anything like this since Jeff Buckley.
Tell me how much you wish you could stay home to take care of me (yes, I'm still sick) then leave for work without replacing the empty toilet paper roll.
Kirk is still home sick today and I left work early today after having barfed 3 times in less than an hour - with only green tea and a hard boiled egg in my tummy.
We've officially dubbed our home "die auspumpenhütte", which is a literal translation of "the poop hut" using BabelFish.
Translated back it reads: the pumping out hut.
When Kirk found this for me to cheer me up, I laughed so hard I almost pooped myself.
I'm going to warn all of you right now that Kirk and I are planning to get married next fall. That means that I'll be posting to my blog about it, about EVERYTHING; dresses, banquet halls, flowers, family, friends, photgraphers, invitations.
EVERY. SORDID. DETAIL.
Our current goal is a late September/early October 2005 wedding. I'm not sure where yet 'cause evry in Toronto books over a year in advance, so I'm scrambling a little for a place to hold it. All I know is that I want to have the ceremony and reception at the same spot. Probably something non-denominational since I was raised Roman Catholic and he Lutheran, we figure we're going to hell anyway for all those years of living in sin.
My parents have generously offered to help us with most of the cost of a reception as long as (there's always a catch) I invite certain people that I hadn't originally wanted to invite. Since my father IS Italian and likes to get his own way (a infuriating trait that I've inherited from him), my first instinct was to tell him that I'm not a little girl anymore and IT'S MY GODDAMN WEDDING AND I'LL INVITE WHOEVER I DAMN WELL PLEASE. But don't worry, I didn't actually say it out loud this time.
My dad is very Italian, very Catholic, and VERY protective of me. When I moved out of the house at the age of 23, he thought I was insane. Even my grandmother told me that no man would EVER want me because I didn't live at home with my parents like a good girl. Then 2 years later when I told him that Kirk and I were moving in together after only 6 months of dating, and that we had no plans to get married, I thought he was going to have an aneurism. Here's a brief excerpt from that conversation.
ME: "I'm moving in with Kirk next month."
DAD: "No you aren't."
ME: "Umm, I love you and know this is hard for you to accept, but I'm not here to ask your permission."
DAD: "Obviously you don't care about me or what I think."
ME: "Dad, I care very much about you and what you think, but I love Kirk and it's my choice to make."
DAD: "So you're having sex then"
I'll just leave it there cause it's at this point that things really started degrading. I mean, this was the only time my father and I had, and have, spoken of me and sex in the same sentence.
After so many years of uncomfortable dinners, and lots and lots of therapy to get over the guilt and shame of dissapointing my dad and the joy of living with my best friend and the love of my life all at the same time, we're finally at a good place in our relationship.
I just couldn't ruin this for him and tell him to take his generous gift (which will help so very much) and shove it. He is just so proud and happy that we're "doing the right thing" and I know he just wants to share this special day with as many people as possible - and I love him for it. All this means is that instead of an intimate attendance of 80 we're looking at about 130 - I can deal with that.
OK, that's enough wedding talk.
Here are some pics of some of my recent artwork.
This one is titled Sunset on Salerno. It's from a photo I took at the cottage. I gave it to my aunt Debbie and uncle Vic cause they used to have a cottage on the very same lake years ago.
This is the comissioned portrait that I did of Keira, my boss' 7-year old daughter. It's from a photo of her jumping up and down on a bed.
This is a painting of my mum, age 3, done from an old photo. It's about 40% completed.
This morning Kirk woke up with the flu. Oh boy. I've been so crabby all week, with adjusting to working full time and all, so I've set aside my grumpiness to take care of my sick shmoopee. In a few hours I am going to be mean though and go out to meet Jen, a university buddy, that I haven't seen in about 4 years. We're going to Saigon Sister for some delicious vietnamese munchies while he's all snug in bed. Oscar will keep him warm and safe for me while I'm gone.
There have been a few things that have happened here in Toronto over the last couple of weeks that have made it just a little harder to get up in the mornings, much less blog:
Handguns are NOT necessary. Not EVER.
If there is ANYONE out there who believes that this is the only way out, please, please get help. Props to Heather B. Armstrong- an amazingly courageous woman, and mother, who GOT HELP.
I love living in here but what the FUCK is going on????
Oh yeah, I'm also starting back to work full-time next week. For the first time in 3 years.
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