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.
Last night Kirk and I went to see The Pixies at Arrow Hall. When it started snowing yesterday afternoon, I was starting to feel kinda uneasy about driving out to the airport in the middle of rush hour. People in Toronto always seem to forget what it is like to live in a country that experiences WINTER. Sheesh.
Things didn't improve much when I got home from work when I had to clean up a shiny new Oscar turd that was hardnening right in front of my easel, which must have appeared somtime in the 4 hours since I had last been home (I come home on my lunch hour to take him out). I totally freaked out cause he's been doing it a few times a week since we turned the clocks back. I got a wee bit yelly (I'm so tired poop paranoia) and broke out Oscar's puppy training crate, where he spent the rest of the evening while we were out. We've tried everything, but he's a 2.5 year old border collie living in an apartment - time for a little hard-core, non-yelly discipline.
I picked Kirk up at work and we stopped for a bite to eat to avoid the worst part of the evening traffic. We go there around halfway though The Datsun's set, which, while hardcore, unfortunately sounded like one very long song. At least that's all I could tell while I was chugging the Mike's Hard Lemonade I was double fisting. We made it to the front of the "beer garden" and had a perfect view of the stage. "Beer garden" is a major misnomer by the way, "beer pen" is more like it. Once The Pixies took to the stage, every person within a 10-foot radius of us lit up a smoke - in a non-smoking concert hall festooned with signs threatening a $5000 fine for lighting up. The Pixies opened with pretty sober rendition of Wave of Mutliation, which made it seem like they were playing someone's wedding or bar mitzvah.
Now, I quit smoking cigarettes a while ago when I realized my little habit might have had something to do with my 10-year stint of quarterly bronchial infections, leading to a total lack of interest in physical exertion or proper diet and finally to depression. One of the things I had to do when I quit was think of how DISGUSTING it was, always remining myself of all the toxic fumes I was breathing in besides the tobacco. Obviously it worked because I had to GET OUT of there. Part of me wanted to bitch slap those asswipes 'cause why should I have to give up my spot just so I can breathe air that wasn't suffocating.
Two songs later the band redeemed themselves (around the same time Kirk, my sweet shmoops, talked me down from my increasingly bilious mood and we moved to a bit further back). Every single song from there on in was incredible. After so many years apart, it was amazing to see a group of extremely talented musicians hit every song full on just as tight as ever. The first time I heard The Pixies when a friend lent me her tape of Dolittle. I was floored by how music could be so velvety, melodic and hard rocking all at the same time.
With more room to move and air to breathe, I downed the last of my Mike's and danced like a maniac for the rest of the set. Concert goers in Toronto are pretty uptight and most people just stand around, afraid to let their hips sway in any sort of suggestive, potentially-image-shattering manner. Not me.
About 45 minutes into the set, a mildly drunk woman in her early 20's tapped me on the shoulder. The last time I was at an all ages show at Arrow Hall, I saw the Foo Fighters and had a couple of 17-year old punks behind me who kicked water bottles at me because I was dancing too much. So you can imagine that I was a little taken aback at having a stranger come up to me. She proceeded to tell me, while clutching 2 cups of bad beer, how she thought I was "awesome" and that she was having fun watching me have such a good time, "even though your partner seems kinda bored." It's hard to tell, but beneath Kirk's stoic, "I-don't-dance" stance at concerts, rages a hard-core music lover. "I just wanted to tell you how cool you are and that you should just keep on dancin'."
Powered by the energy of Mike's and the nicest compliment I've received from a total stranger in EONS, I jumped and shimmied to U-Mass, Gigantic, Here Comes Your Man, Debaser, Monkey Gone to Heaven, Mr Grieves, a second more rocking version of Wave of Mutilation, Where is My Mind?, Caribou, Vamos, La La Love You and a few others that I can't remember because I was too busy ass shaking.
They ended the show with the most AMAZING encore - EVER. I'm not sure what the song was, but it was instrumental. It was all massive beats and kicking guitar riffs generating the most incredible electonica-ish sounds I've ever heard, and not one computer. Oh and the dancing that was done.
A million thanks to that nameless drunk girl whose selfless act helped me to forget all about the traffic and the dog poop and the smokers and just enjoy the music.
I just finished one of the commissions I've been working on since early last month. YAY! Now I've got to get as much of the second one done as I can by the end of next week. Come the first week of December I will be working full time, for the first time in 3 years, and I want to make sure I have enough time to work on it. Especially since I've got another painting on the go at Katrina's. It's from a photo of my mum when she was 3.
It still blows my mind that someone would actually want to pay me for something I've painted.
Tonight is my cousing Dom's 30th birthday party and there's a surprise party for him tonight at Windy O'Neills. I was TOTALLY serious when I said I was going to go buuuuut after my work out yesterday, Kirk getting home from work later than I had thought he would and the fact that I'm working tomorrow at 8AM,I'm pretty much wimping out and not going. On a clear day, It's about an hour drive but on a Friday night? Just after a tractor-trailer had jacknifed on the 401? **shudder** Which is too bad, cause Dom has the biggest sunniest smile EVAR (it's all about the dimples) and I'm sure they're all have a lot of fun right now...sigh...I love being 30, but jeebus, what happened to the days when I would have welcomed any opportunity to party?
This is my entry for the most recent Photo Friday Challenge.
I've been meaning to do these photo friday challenges FOR EVER. I'm goin' to try harder from now on. pinkie swear. Anyway, this is our lake.
I wish I could be there. Right. Now.
A few moments ago, when I got this joke in my email, I caught myself reading it aloud to Kirk, like I do sometimes. Except he is in Rohnert Park, California. And I'm pretty sure he couldn't hear me.
------
A man died and went to heaven. As he stood in front of St. Peter at the
Pearly Gates, he saw a huge wall of clocks behind him.
He asked, "What are all those clocks?" St. Peter answered, "Those are
Lie-Clocks. Everyone on Earth has a Lie-Clock. Every time you lie, the
hands on your clock will move."
"Oh," said the man, "whose clock is that?"
"That's Mother Teresa's. The hands have never moved, indicating that she
never told a lie."
"Incredible," said the man. "And whose clock is that one?"
St. Peter responded, "That's Abraham Lincoln's clock. The hands have moved twice,
telling us that Abe told only two lies in his entire life."
"Where's Bush's clock?" asked the man.
"Oh, it's in Jesus' office. He's using it as a ceiling fan."
Question: Marry me?
Yes, friends, after 2 years of being a girlfriend and 5 years of being a common-law partner, I am now officially a fiancee.
The last few days had been kinda strained with all the overtime Kirk's been putting in (working 12 full days in a row is NOT my idea of fun). So we decided that we were entitled to sleeping in on Sunday morning past 8am. I can't remember exactly what we were talking about but all of a sudden Kirk dropped the bomb.
A short while after I said yes (actual answer found in post title), we got up to find our slacker plans had backfired. At about 7am while we were sleeping in, Oscar had taken the largest dump EVAR in the middle of the loft floor. The little bastard didn't even TRY to wake us up.
I went to see the doctor before dinner this evening about this headache. I was a little concerned about the constant popping in my ears and was afraid it was an infection. No. I just have a whoppingly nasty case of rhinusitis
I'm such a wimp....sniff.
Oh yeah.
Props to the folks at Family Practice Health Centre at Women's College Ambulatory Care Centre. Even though I had to wait a whole half hour to see a doctor. They were able to fit me in at really short notice and are super nice.
Oh yeah.
I also forgot to tell you I finally saw Shaun of the Dead on Saturday.
Go. See it now.
I'm gonna go again on Saturday.
I've been home from work for a large part of the afternoon. I've had a pounding sinus headache for about two days now. When I feel this crappy Oscar is the only thing that seems to make me feel better. How can you not love a face like this???
Alternative names used at some point in time:
Oscuardo
Scooter-pup
Scootie
Petit Monsieur
The Pooper
Monkey Boy
Puppers
Mister Dog
Squardles
Squardly-buckets
Squarlofo-mofo
and my personal favourite: Dr. Piddles
Here's what Spencer's dad cooked up for brunch the day after the wedding.
The best part? Watching a dozen guys standing around the pot of roiling oil, giggling like little girls.
On the first weekend of October, Kirk and I went up to Sundridge, Ontario to attend the wedding of Anny and Spencer. I've known Anny since she was born. Both our mums were roommates in 1970 and have been friends ever since.
When we were kids we lived about an hour apart from one another and only really hung out during holidays and birthdays and whatnot. We really became close in high school, where we both attended the only all-french language catholic high school in the Greater Toronto Area. See, both our mums are from Quebec so they had decided it was important for their children to grow up being able to communicate both in English and in French. All subjects were taught in French; Maths, Sciences, History, Shop, Geography... EVERYTHING except for English of course.
When we were rockin' teenage catholic school girls, Anny and I even dated two friends on the same hockey team. Ahhh.....sweet memories.
I had promised myself that I wouldn't bawl uncontrollably during the ceremony (I can be irrationally sappy sometimes). And I didn't. It was later, after the dinner reception and a lot of white wine that I weeped openly during the speeches.
We're all grown up now. I was going to say old...but 30 isn't old is it?
A hundred fruit flies on the ceiling upstairs in the loft.
Kirk is also upstairs with a flyswatter.
20 minutes later, Kirk is victorious.
My hero!!!!
The opening was last Saturday and was, by all accounts, a success. The place was pretty packed. My parents were there as were my aunt Nancy, cousin Nancy (it's a often recurring name in my family), my brother and his girlfriend. My friends Jen, Trish, Lorne, Natalie, Kathleen and Missy all dropped by.
The most touching moment of the evening, and of my life, came when my father cried openily when he saw the painting I had done of my grandfather. It's based on a photo that was taken around 1942 where he is dressed in his Italian army uniform. Makes me a little teary now just thinking about it. As we all sat around, gabbed and drank really good coffee, I felt like my grandfather was actually there in the room with us. My parents ended up staying right until the folks at Javaville had to kick us out. I think Dad felt Grandpa there too.
Just as things were winding down I was approached by a local resident who really liked my dog portraits and asked if I could do a portrait of her dog. YAY A COMMISSION!!!! Since none of my paintings were for sale, I am very excited about it. Oh, and I also got a commission from someone at work to do a portrait of his daughter. WOOHOO!!!
Pictures coming soon. I'm a lazy ass...
Styrofoamkitty's most recent post reminds me of a special time, back when I lived alone. I think it was 1995 or 96 or something.
Anyway, one fine Sunday afternoon, I spent about an hour rearranging the cupboards, as I do at least twice a year (yes, I am that anal) when I decided to start vaccuming the kicthen before I was even finished the other shit I was doing (yes, I am that obsessive compulsive).
I bent down to pull some shrivelled up bit of food that the vaccum was refusing to suck up. Then, I stood straight up whereby my skull cranked full force into one of the cupboard doors from the bottom up.
Next thing I know, I'm lying in the middle of the kitchen floor with my 15-pound cat sitting on my chest, mewing worriedly.
I had no idea how much time had passed, but I had the biggest nastiest headache I have EVER felt in my entire life. Turns out I had a mild concussion, and couldn't work the next day for the lightning bolts shooting out of my left eye. I had to tell my manager what had happened.
Though I had considered lying, I was just too exhausted to bother. He almost didn't believe me seeing as only a couple of months earlier I had given myself a hairline fracture in the nose by smashing my face into a sliding-glass door (which unfortunately DID actually happen - but that's another story).
Not that I really cared what he thought of me. He wore shorts and leather sandals to my interview. Oh, and he called me the afternoon before my first day to tell me that he had changed his mind and that I woulsn't actually be starting work atOHNOI'mjustkiddingahahahahahaaaaaaahahahaha..ahem...
Bastard.
My grandmother came home from the hospital today. She is having some kind of lower-intestinal issue due to the lack of fiber in her diet. She's OK, but still a little shaken.
Hell, if I woke up one morning bleeding profusely from my ass, I would most certainly FREAK THE FUCK OUT. And I'm not someone's 81 year-old grandmother.
I haven't been sleeping very well. Basically, I'm over-emotional with a hair-trigger, snappy-retort reflex set off by just about everything that Kirk seems to do/not do and/or say/not say. My hormones certainly have added fuel to the fire.
I think he is just about ready to smother me with my own pillow.
I'm participating in a group exhibition coming up at the end of September for Toronto Arts Week . I was planning to do a solo show, but I just don't think I can handle the pressure of hosting, curating and promoting a show all by myself.
Plus, the timing really blows with the TTC streetcar track "reconstruction" on my street from mid-September to mid/late-October. I don't even want to think about what driving, parking or just plain getting around will be like.
...shudder...
Anyway, I'm heading over to meet the other artists tonight at 7. YAY!
This was sent to me by my gay boyfriend Steven.
Dearest Steven,
You'll always be MY favourite fag.
Love,
Your favourite hag
p.s. only 37 days until Talk Like A Pirate Day!!!!
Looks like blogging gets the rumble seat in my life right now, as are most things computer-related. I'm still getting used to my new schedule. Man it's hard when everything in your life shifts...even incrementally. I mean, the whole yard I work at is Internet and e-mail free. Every job I've held in the last 8 years has been a place I could chat, surf and talk to people throughout the day. Now, I count stuff and sort paper in alphabetical or numerical order all day. And, I'm busy from the moment I walk in, to the moment I leave. Unlike my last few jobs in the IT world, no one is sitting around looking bored. Everyone is busy and people actually like the work they do. Granted, it's not the most intellectually stimulating work, but somehow it is fulfilling. At the end of the day I can say exactly what I've completed and know that I've contributed. I haven't felt that way about work in a long time. And anyways, what I DO to make a living doesn't define WHO I AM.
Okay, time to go work out now. Surprisingly, I actually miss my work outs if they don't happen. They're definitely making a difference. In the last 6 months I've gone from a size 12 to a 10 and went from 165 to 155 pounds - thanks to those workouts AND less time spent in front of the TV and computer. YAY!
My body clock is all fucked up. Even though I have to get up at 6:30 am every morning, I just can't seem to fall asleep before midnight, which was my bedtime pre-job.
Hey Maggie - a friend of ours got the shirt here in Toronto.
Since I can't sleep, I've taken on a new obsession: Kingdom of Loathing. Thanks styro!
About 15 minutes ago I sat down to write. Something. Problem is, that for the last 14 minutes I've been sitting here staring blankly at my monitor.
My brain is FRIED, yo.
Nighty night....zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
Just a quick note to let ya'll know I'm still alive. Work is pretty good. These people do their shit old school. Almost everything is done by hand. I have to share a PC with 5 other people. Oh...and no Internet access or e-mail.
What's a modern girl to do?
I start my new job tomorrow a the lumber yard...at 8am. I've been getting up earlier and earlier each day this week to try and get used to it. All I can say is that I am sooooo not a morning person. I'm the grumpiest biatch at 6:30am.
E just called to tell me that her friend has 2 extra tickets to the sold out Pixies show in September. My day is now purrrrfect.
I'm now employed!!!!! This is good since we have a GAPING hole in our bathroom's tub enclosure that's been there for at least 6 months. I'll be working in the office of a lumber yard 3 days a week, which means I'll still be able to paint in studio the other 2 days. The downer? I have to start at 8am and they don't have internet access or email.
*GULP*
Speaking of painting, here's my most recently finished oil painting - painted with a palette knife. The 2nd time I've painted that way. I kinda like it!
Got the call this morning about the job, but i was driving kirk to work. Now we're playing phone tag.
...sigh...
OK, so last week my dad and I had a really long talk. Ever since I've realized that I'm healed from the injuries I sustained 2 summers ago when some dickhead decided that he wouldn't bother checking to see what was going on ahead of him before he slammed on the gas and proceeded to drive right into me crossing the street...on foot.
Anyway, we were talking about the fact that my friend Natalie and I are trying to startup a 2-woman painting business. So far we've bid on a couple of jobs, but nothing concrete has come out of it yet and we want have a few more completed jobs before we really start marketing ourselves. That means that I need some other way to make money in the meantime. He told me he'd ask around and see if there was anything could do to help.
It was amazing. My dad. Offering to help me without criticising me and actually being nice about it. I didn't feel like a little kid asking for my daddy's help. He treated me as an adult and with respect. I almost started bawling right then and there. I left for the cottage and put it out of my mine. Monday morning he calls and tells me that there is an opening at the office of one of the lumber yards that's a division of the company he works for.
Today, I went in for the interview with the super dude that runs the place and it was really cool. He would like me to work Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays which means I won't have to sacrifice my work outs with my brother AND painting in the studio. I almost peed myself. It's exactly what I need AND it's in the city, so I won't have to commute to the suburbs!!!! WOOHOO!!!!
Anyway, boss dude is going to talk to the owner and get back to me early next week with an offer. Plus, it's Canada Day tomorrow, and Kirk took Friday off, so we're heading up to the cottage once again, but this time for 4 whole days.
I'm so happy I could explode!!!!!
Shooting spree averted, police say man's car packed with 6,000 rounds, wandering dog plays crucial role. I was actually in this area yesterday afternoon. *shudder*
SUV hits motorcycle officer.
.
So I didn't actually get to see Marie's babies yet. I had a NASTY reaction to caffeine around 11am. (Puking and such...happens from time to time...mostly when my allergies are bad...and right now they are...)
I was a little concerned about walking into a hospital and possibly handling infants so soon after retching for a good half hour. I'm not the least bit contagious but I figured it was better to be safe than sorry...sigh...you never know...
Our water has been turned off since 8am this morning due to the perpetual road work happening outside my home.
Now my plans for the day have all been shot to hell.
Can't make tea
Can't take a bath
Can't brush my teeth
Can't flush the toilet
Can't put fresh water out for Oscar and The Poupee
Can't wash the floor in my bedroom where Oscar puked up his breakfast at 8:30 this morning.
...sigh...
I know it could be a lot worse...but still...
ok...so I updated my template and am using the blogger comments tool now...so all my old comments are gone.
POOP.
This afternoon, Marie had her twins!!!! Both boys were delivered by C-section and are healthy. Hoping to see them later this week. Will post images when I can.
Going to spend the afternoon with my cousin Marie. She's preggers with twin boys (shudder) and is on bed rest with no one but her father to keep her company today. She was in the hospital for a whole week a little while ago because her blood pressure was all messed up. They were worried that, for her health, she might have to birth the babies before they were really ready to be born. Ultrasound tests estimate that Baby A is just over 5.5 pounds and Baby B is just shy of 5 pounds. That means that it's safe for her to have them before her original due date of July 14th. This will be the first set of twins in our family.
My biological clock isn't ticking yet...ahem....not really...sigh...
about pot in Canada. This is a hot topic in many party platforms for the upcoming election (June 25).
A few words of advice to all you cottaging virgins out there:
1. When you go to your cottage, don't go over and visit your neighbours, have too many beers and offer to help lob heavy rocks, while ankle deep in lake water and standing on slippery rocks, to fill out your cottage's shoreline that's slowly being eroded away by the wake of far too many jetskis and power boats, and slide on your knees down to the edge of the rock shelf that ends in a 50 ft. drop to the lake bottom.
2. Don't have a few more beers, offer to "help" your mate, who's replacing the locking doorknob, by closing the door before both knobs and internal mechanism are securely in place, especially when you were told you not to, then say "oops!" when the doorknob comes right off, and promptly almost pee yourself laughing while you offer to "help" get out, then actually wrench the mechanism right out of the door with a screwdriver when your love isn't looking and say "oops! I think I broke it".
3. Do pass out right after eating the haphazard meal you slammed together while in a drunken stupor and force your mate to head on over and explain to the nice new neighbours why you can't come over and share that wild blueberry pie you had bought especially for the occasion and had gone on and on and on about over beers earlier in the afternoon.
After watching The Passionate Eye last night, I had a little trouble sleeping.
Hey! That means it's the perfect time for another hilarious movie to
improve morale! Witness the glory that is Ron Burgundy.
Spending time at my cottage has made it quite clear to me that I couldn't survive alone in the wilderness if my life, and the lives of others, depended on it.
Oh...and if I don't have a rock hard ass by the end of the summer, there is no god. It's a 10 minute hike downhill to get to the water and cabin, but a 20 minute hike back up to the road.
Hey there folks,
Just wanted to let you know that I'm still alive, and yes, we had a VERY successful opening accross the board. Three separate media outlets shot footage at a couple of venues in The Junction. Though unfortunately none at our location. I did get lots of great feedback about my work and I even sold a painting!
I've had no more than 5 hours sleep a night for the last week, so I'm going to go lie down now and sleep for 3 days.
Peace.
Tomorrow is my last day working for Beth!!! WOOOHOOO!!!
I'm showing Penny (my replacement) the ropes and she's going to be AWESOME for Beth. Way better than me considering how not effective I've been for the last couple of months, oh yeah...and her 40 years of experience. I feel kinda silly walking her through everything, but I guess at least she'll understand how I've been doing things and will have a better idea of where to find everything.
ALSO, I've put together a little page of my show info. Figured I'd make the most of my .mac account while I still have it.
Anyway, here's an update on where I'm at with the show:
EXHIBITION
I'll be installing 15 digital shots (13" x 19"), plus 5 paintings. The photos I used to paint them will be framed (5" x 7") and hanging alongside the paintings. Have the frames, haven't yet printed the shots. Seriously people, this was the hardest part. I have over 5000 photos sitting on my mac's backpack drive. Took me FOREVER to figure out which ones I wanted to use.
SELLING
All the photos are for sale, plus I'll be offering additional digital prints at a reduced price, in case people can't afford the pricy $175 a piece. The paintings are already spoken for, but I'm hoping to have another show in the summer of just paintings, this will basically be jsut a preview of my work - AND I'm going to make myself available for comissioned pet portraits if anyone checking my shit out is innerested.
PRINTING
I had considered having someone else print my photos for me (which really would have been faster and less of a pain in the ass) but I'm kinda on a tight budget so it's taking a little longer than I had expected. I'm stuck having to re-print almost ALL of my shots, since I was an ass and didn't bother to do any test prints OR bother to write down what print settings I used and went ahead and printed anyway on my $5.00/sheet premium quality glossy paper. 5 done. 10 left to go....sigh...oh yeah...plus the 5 smaller shots.
FRAMING
I've got all of my frames which were pretty cheap but look good. I'll need to put in my own hanging hardware since the shit that comes with SUCKS.
INSTALLATION
Still waiting to hear back from our venue to find out if they're hanging everything for us or if we have to do it ourselves. Everything will be displayed against brick walls that will probably just be screwed into. There's 4 of us exhibiting at the one location, so odds are he'll want to take care of it. Hopefully I can just stand there, looking pretty and direct them, which is MY FAVOURITE.
OPENING
Not sure what we're all going to do yet, but I'm sure it will be nice. There are 9 venues in our little area that are working together on promoting it to the public, all opening simultaneously, so hopefully we'll get a lot of traffic off the street, beyond our friends and family.
CLOSING
There will be a silent auction to close up our participation in Contact, which is yet another piece to print and frame.
EMOTIONAL STATE
Excited with a hint of panic...but way less stressed than I've been over the last few weeks. I'm learning a lot about how all this art-show-stuff works and am glad that next time I'll be able to just whip through everything.
currently, i have both a) 2 weeks to go for Contact; and b) 2 weeks to go before my job ends.
ok guys, i think i'm kinda freaking out.
everyone keeps telling me i shouldn't be.
that i have nothing to worry about.
shouldn't that be reassuring?
why am i so worried?
HUZZAH!!!!! The CONTACT Toronto Photography Festival website is now up and I'm listed!!!!
If you're in Toronto on Wednesday, April 14th 2004, you should check out my friend Kate Jackson and her Dirty Skirty clothing line at the "Have A Heart" Fashion Gala in support of the Canadian Red Cross.
On a more somber note.
Don't get me wrong. As far as jobs go, it's not so bad. No dress code. I get to pick the days that I work. Take as many breaks as I need. Take as long as I need for lunch. There's two house kitties to keep me company. No office politics. I've learned a lot about managing the day to day operations of a business. And I've even become friends with the person who employs me. The pay is not the best but it's not exactly minimum wage. Despite all of that, two weeks ago today I gave my notice. It's becoming harder and harder to spend two days a week sorting through the constant disorder of someone elses personal and business affairs. I'd much rather be managing my own.
Spent all day yesterday with Natalie painting a massage therapy clinic space. It's a great room in a big old house that was converted to office space a couple of decades ago. We've got to go back on Friday for a last round of touchups and to paint the door. I can't remember when I last had so much fun working so hard.
We're only a few weeks away from Contact 2004 and I'm getting really excited slash nervous. I still have to finish getting my photos printed and framed. Everything's going to be for sale, but I think I'm going to offer unframed signed prints as well. Also still need to work out my pricing too.
My work. For sale.
...GULP...
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