February 27, 2009
Another reason to celebrate - Gord and I finally finished our incredibly scratchy toilet paper. Way back in September, we were out getting survival supplies, and found ourselves facing a wall of toilet paper that was easily as long as a basketball court. When confronted with so many choices, we panicked. Like deer in the headlights. Why should there be 400 choices of toilet paper? WHY!? We grabbed a gigantor pack because we drove to the store instead of walking, and thought we'd stock up. And we got something that was recycled, because it's toilet paper for craps sake, you know what we're using it for. Unbeknownst to us, we also got something that was 80% sandpaper.
We suffered in silence for months, neither of us wanting to complain, because there's no way we were going to throw all that tp out. And what else could we use it for? Blowing noses was worse than wiping butts. We are too old to tp the neighbors house.
So here we are in February - that's 6 months of tp torture - and yesterday I put on the last roll of sandpaper. To avoid this kind of mishap in the future, we have a new house rule. Forget recycled, forget sales, all we search for now are the packages with kittens on them. Kittens, or bears, or some other cute fluffy thing you'd never use to wipe your ass. Lesson learned -You're never too poor for good toilet paper.
February 26, 2009
So far, I have managed 1 chapter of review and 4 loads of laundry. It's been snowing or raining every day, when it isn't -17, so taking photos was off the agenda. Low motivation to start on new products, because they require a lot of supplies and I haven't wanted to go out in the snow & cold.
So I have to admit defeat. This Montreal winter broke me. I miss the chinooks, even though they always brought migraines with them. I want it to be spring already!
February 24, 2009
It's reading week, so no school, but I have no books! No new books, at least. So I splurged on Linguality - they publish french books with a glossary of english on the left hand page, and the french text on the right, so you don't have to read with a dictionary and your computer open to Babelfish. I must be learning some french, because with the glossary I could make sense of the sample page I downloaded, but I had no such luck with the Italian. I think this will make it easier to learn the language, and if nothing else, I get new books!
I just finished Embracing the Wide Sky by Daniel Tammet. Gord ordered the book after seeing him on The Hour, and it was a really good read. I usually can't plod through nonfiction, but this book makes all the scientific mumbo jumbo easy peasy. If you've ever wondered how your brain works, this is a good book to start with. The author is an autistic savant, and once recited Pi to 20,000 digits or something insane like that. I can remember Pi to 2 digits. The difference is how he sees numbers, not as the dry, meaningless pencil scratchings from math class like I do, but as images, so reciting Pi is like describing a landscape.
Post title is from the song stuck in my head, it was pretty much the soundtrack of last winter and reminds me of driving up and down highway 2 over Christmas. You can listen to the whole album here.
February 20, 2009
That said, what kind of person could just stand around and listen to these poor creatures die slowly without even trying to help? So today, some of the local fishermen did exactly that, and while I applaud them and think it's great that they got some of the dolphins out, I lost all faith in humanity after reading just 5 of the comments at the end of the story. Ignorance abounds, and some people will find a way to bring abortion into every discussion. If you're that fucking bothered by abortions, start handing out condoms. Are all the pro-lifers on the face of the earth registered as foster parents or trying to adopt a child? Are they teaching their kids that while abstinence is the super duper bestest choice ever, they do have other birth control options that rely less on the tenuous self control of a teenager and more on that wacky science crap that makes Jesus cry?
SEAL COVE, Newfoundland (AP) — Five exhausted dolphins have been trapped behind drifting pack ice for several days and now need rapid rescue, the mayor of an eastern Canadian village said Wednesday.
The 8-foot animals somehow became separated from the open Atlantic and have been swimming for four days in a shrinking open-water area of Seal Cove's harbor, just 100 feet from shore, said Mayor Winston May.
"They keep going round circles, trying to keep this little pool of water open so that they can have their breathing area. And the whole bay seems to be froze up, there's no where else for them to go," said May.
Wayne Ledwell, an expert on whale rescues, said dolphins won't swim long distances under ice since they need to surface regularly to breathe and the slabs of ice would make that impossible.
Ledwell, who heads Whale Release and Strandings Group, which rescues whales and dolphins, said that if the ice continues to encroach on the open area the dolphins could eventually drown.
May said he has asked Canada's federal Fisheries Department to send an icebreaker into the community's harbor to create a channel to the open Atlantic.
"They're not going to survive much longer," said May. "You can hear (the dolphins) crying all night long," he said.
Can't you just leave the damn happy not-dead dolphin story alone? And when is the StupidFilter coming out?
February 19, 2009
Ben & Jerry have created "Yes Pecan!" ice cream flavor for Obama. For George W. they they asked for suggestions from the public.
Here are some of their favorite responses:
The Housing Crunch
Good Riddance You Lousy *$%er... Swirl
Chock 'n Awe
Heck of a Job, Brownie!
RockyRoad to Fascism
Death by Chocolate... and Torture
Freedom Vanilla Ice Cream
Chocolate Chip On My Shoulder
Chunky Monkey in Chief
Caramel Preemptive Stripe
I broke the law and am responsible for the deaths of thousands . . . with nuts.
Good old Ben & Jerry, always amusing.
And Barack Obama was in Canada today. He showed Steve how to smile and wave at the crowds, although we all know they weren't cheering RoboHarper. And then Barack Obama had a beaver tail. It's just a flat doughnut, don't get PETA on the phone. But they talked about that damn doughnut for a good hour on CBC, because the eating of doughnuts is both more interesting and more satisfying than anything Steve has to say.
And we're probably going to have to have doughnuts and ice cream for dinner.
February 18, 2009
25 things- yada yada, blah, blah, here's 25 random and mildly interesting things about me.
1. I have a tattoo on my wrist. Outside wrist, not the inside where all the veins are. It’s a compass, and I got it as a reminder not to waste my time on things I don’t believe in.
2. After much trial and error, I know that bangs and perms are always a mistake.
3. I should have been at
4. I believe if you don’t love a dog, the part of your heart that is capable of unconditional love will shrivel up and die.
5. There are few things sexier than a man who will do his own laundry. Should you ever find yourself asking your lover “Do I have any clean underwear?, you have failed at life.
6. I read a lot. I have turned down sex in order to continue reading. I have turned down sex in order to continue reading a book I am rereading for the 4th (or 5th or 6th) time.
7. I can make macaroni & cheese, make tea/coffee, brush my teeth, wash my hair &/or shave my legs while reading.
8. Music makes it better, where “it” = everything.
9. Of all the sex jobs, I think dominatrix is where it’s at. You get kick ass boots, and who doesn’t look good in black? All you have to do is force some dimwit to lick your boots, then you work out some ‘personal issues’ with a riding crop and demand money. Should the client get out of hand, you have a large man in leather chaps on hand to slap him around some, and you charge more for the extra ‘fun’. Where’s the bad?
10. I’d like to touch a live bear. A very, very tame bear, or a heavily sedated (very tame) bear, because I don’t want touching a bear (and screaming, and bleeding and hearing my bones crunch) to be the last thing I do…
11. I just realized I’ve only listed 10 things and 3 of them reference sex in some way. I’m cheating by pointing this out and skipping on to
12. I hate hot days, hate being sticky with sweat, and long for crisp cold fall days all through summer.
13. When I was 7 my favorite song was “Eve of Destruction” by Barry McGuire. That and The Nature of Things with David Suzuki had me convinced that the end of the world was coming up fast.
14. I’m really glad my brother doesn’t hold a grudge for all the times I beat him up.
15. When I was one, I didn’t talk to my mom for an entire week when she took my bottle away. I think that’s the longest I’ve ever held a grudge.
16. I can’t remember ever being really sick in junior high or high school, but I sure stayed home ‘sick’ a lot.
17. Ditto for work. I’ve hated every job I’ve had, except for Chapters. I loved that job, and those people.
18. I have never been in the hospital except to visit someone.
19. We’re nearing the end.
20. The only video game I have ever finished is Fable 2. Not even the original Mario Bros. I could never get past the damn water level.
21. I always skip the last chapter of the House at Pooh Corner,
22. and the episode of Buffy where Xander leaves Anya at the altar.
23. I should be studying for my French midterm right now.
24. I can’t believe this is the most interesting stuff I could come up with.
25. I’m going to bed.
I'd tag people, but it's a huge imposition, and I'd have guilt if I did. But don't feel bad that I didn't tag you! I wanted to, I just didn't think you had the time....
February 16, 2009
And Battlestar Galactica was just frakking awesome, as always. Gord and I need to rewatch it, though, because so much was revealed that we couldn't keep up with it all.
For VD, we had sushi and watched a really sweet love story called "Let the Right One In". Maybe not so much a love story as a subtitled vampire movie from Sweden....but it was also kind of lovely.
We also watched Religulous last night. Its one of those funny/disturbing movies that leaves me wondering if everyone but me is just a high functioning wacko...
I don't have much experience with religion. My brother and I went to Sunday School when we were kids, not at a church but at the community hall. And I'm pretty sure I spent most of my time daydreaming, because all I remember is singing that tack song, pretending my finger was a candle, and getting finger jello afterwards. If that was supposed to be the liver of Christ or something, no one told me.
And we went to christian camp in the summer, but that was more because it was close, our friends went there, and it got us out of the house for a week. Again, the religious part of it whooshed right past me, and I just enjoyed the campfires and capture the flag. The only lasting religious thought I got out of it was "God is Love" because at craft time they had us embroider it on a little red felt heart. I know after our camp went home, other camps used the same buildings, so it's entirely possible that a rival christian camp moved in and had all the little kids embroider "God Hates" on little black felt hearts.
You have to be really careful what you teach your kids, cause they may grow up to be assholes.
February 13, 2009
If you aren't already watching this show, you need to start. Forget whether or not you like sci-fi. Ask yourself if you like strong character driven drama that is socially relevant. Maybe you like sexy women - BSG has the sexiest women on tv. Feminist? The best pilot in the fleet is played by Katee Sackhoff, and a woman president. Mystery lover? There are 12 Cylons (Robots that look human) but no one knows who they are.
Look, there are fabulous and hilarious recaps of the seasons on the internet, and I would post them for you, but if you watch the recaps, you will want to watch the show, only ALL THE SURPRISES WILL BE RUINED. Yeah, I had to shout that, it's that tragic. So here's what you do. Next time you're sick, and have to spend a day or two on the couch anyway, you send your significant other or your helper monkey down to the video store (or you download the bit torrent) to get the 4 part miniseries, and watch it. It will make you better, I promise.
Here's the promo for the miniseries, because it doesn't give away too many secrets.
If you didn't get goosebumps watching that, you're probably dead inside.
February 12, 2009
And the winner is Angela! Yay!! Angela is awesome, I'm so glad it's going to her house :) If you haven't checked out her blog, it's Pickles on Pizza, and frequently hilarious.
And now, I'm off to bed. I've learned my lesson about going to french class half asleep.
February 11, 2009
I got married at 23 and divorced at 25. I'm not telling how old I am now. 25+ is good enough. I have a hard time being easy on 23 year old me, because I look back and think, how could I be so stupid? Stupid, stupid, stupid. But on a good day, I can admit that at 23, I was naive, and desperate to please, to be loved, to find my place, and I had no idea where to start. So when people came along and said, "Here. Your place is here" or "You should do this" instead of screaming and lighting their faces on fire like I would today, I said "Thank you. Thank you, I'll do my best over here, you'll see. Just for you." Because doing anything just for me was pretty selfish, and I was trying to fit my saint pants and make everyone happy.
So I got married. And I knew, somewhere, maybe down in my toes, that it wasn't the right thing to do. But I felt like things were beyond my control, and that it was too late to stop it. Oh, baby, do I ever know now that I'm always completely in control of what I choose, and I can stop things at anytime. But 23 year old me didn't, and she got married. Even though her toes knew better, her hands sent out invitations and her mouth smiled and said the words. But then her toes told her ankles. Ankles told knees.
Word spread, and a feeling of dread went with it. By the time it got to my liver, every time I opened my mouth, I felt bile rise. 24 year old me tried to just resign herself to it, and tried comforting herself with the possibility of reincarnation and making better choices next time. Not very fucking comforting, let me tell you. By the time the knowing spread to my heart, I knew what to do. And it hit my throat and I said out loud for the very first time
"I'm on the wrong bus."
No one really heard, so I tried screaming
"I'm on THE WRONG FUCKING BUS!"
Well, now everyone is staring at me like I'm crazy, but they still don't understand. They offer to let me off at the next stop, but I'm adamant. I'm not going one more mile in the wrong direction, thank you very much. Let me off.
"oh, but we can't get your stuff out here. Just wait til the stop, and we can think about what to do. Maybe this is the right bus, maybe you just aren't sure where you want to go?"
No way, hoser. This is the wrong bus, and I don't need any of that crap, so I'm leaving.
So I left, and I pretty much took my cats, my books, a boatload of 'mutual' debt, all the emotional baggage I could carry, and set off on foot. And it took a lot longer for that sense of knowing who I was and where I was headed to reach my eyes so I could see a path. And even longer to reach my brain so that I think I'm making choices with my whole being, and not just reacting to circumstances any more. A large part of figuring out who I am and what I want has led me 5 provinces away from everyone I know, because I needed a lot of space to see things clearly, and even more silence to hear myself think. Even when they love you, people will block your path or try to steer you to what they think is safe. If I've learned anything, it's that I can't take your advice. I'd rather step on my own snakes than get back on your bus. I set those saint pants on fire, and I'm happy in my own dirty jeans. Finally.
It's possible I only posted tonight because I've had this song on repeat all night, but I'm glad I got that out, and even though I still kind of think "How could I be so stupid?" at least I know I'm not so stupid now.
You could write, you could think, you could have sex- Tragically Hip
You could leave your jewelry in a bowl beside the bed
Stare out the window, down the lawn, to the lake
For as long as it takes
Maybe it's the things we don't say
Maybe it's the things we don't say
Maybe it's the things we don't say
Maybe, love is the new maybe
I know what winter's about
Too many nights, not enough days
I watched the birds fly south
And no, I don't wait
The last words out of my mouth
Stay out of my way
And I'm in a wrong place
Maybe it's the things we don't say
Maybe it's the things we don't say
Maybe it's the things we don't say
Maybe, love is the new maybe
Maybe, love is the new maybe
Maybe, love is the new maybe
*I want to make clear that this ex-husband wasn't abusive or anything like that. I have all kinds of horrible things I can say about him, but I know that I'm biased and I won't leave them on the internet like stinking little trails of shit. Suffice it to say, I'm a shoe and he's a glove, and it was eventually impossible to pretend that we were a pair.
I'm cheating with the post today because I'm tired, and it's freezing out here. But I think the All-Drug Olympics might be the best anti drug campaign ever run. Few kids want to grow up to be a punchline, or an international joke. Except for the 'Paris-ites', stupid girls who are "competing" to become Paris Hilton's next best "friend". That show makes my skin crawl. That, and Toddlers & Tiaras. There's a facebook group that has started trying to get it shut down.
Even though the World Anti-Doping Agency views pot differently than performance-enhancing drugs and only sanctions athletes for a positive test that occurs during competition periods, perhaps it’s time they actually did take a stand on recreational drugs and make an example of athletes who get stoned. Of course there’s really only one way you can do that: start an All-Drug Olympics.
Sure, swimming after an ounce of weed would be pretty boring with all those people underwater looking at their hands and pretending that they’re dolphins, but I would love to tune in to watch Greco-Roman wrestling on ecstasy or a 67-hour crystal meth relay race. Maybe you could add obstacles like contaminated needles for them to jump over. Best of all: you could still hold it in Vancouver in 2010 since that’s pretty much what it’s like downtown already!
If you aren't familiar with this show, it's about those horrifying baby beauty pagents. It's all helpless toddlers whored up by their unhappy mothers - who are almost all mulleted, overweight women in pleated jeans. They put their kids in beauty pagents because they feel ugly and want to think that something pretty could come from them. You know what they need, TLC? NOT a show about the pedophelia-pandering baby ho show. They need Stacey and Clinton. I bet they'd feel much better after a makeover. They might even de-whore their innocent 2 year olds and let them play like normal kids.
February 10, 2009
We're renting, and we're not allowed dogs. This isn't a big problem because I haven't really had the heart to have a dog since I put Mikey down on Easter weekend 2 years ago. He did not rise from the dead. He's on top of my bookshelf right now, in a tiny little box, and I don't know if I can ever spread those ashes. Maybe I'll wait, and someone can send us off together.
And on that maudlin note, I made the mistake of opening an email from the Animal Rescue Network, and checking their next adoption days, and then the bigger mistake of checking the photos of the dogs they have for adoption.
And if it weren't for the damn rental agreement, one of these darling puppies would be on my lap right now.
Saturday February 14th, 2009 11:59 AM until 04:00 PM
Location: Natural Animal & Pawtisserie 514-488-4729
Map: 4932B Sherbrooke West Montreal QC
February 09, 2009
1 cup peanut butter (recipe said smooth, we went chunky)
1 cup white sugar (this is a bit too sweet, you could cut it down to 3/4 or even 1/2, maybe)
Bake @ 350 for 12-15 minutes, or until they're golden brown at the bottom.
This will make about 1 dozen cookies. And it's easy enough that even I can do the math if this needed to be doubled, quadrupled, etc.
I like this because when we grocery shop, we try to skip the cookie/snack aisle, which is good... But then we end up at home desperately craving something sweet at 11PM on a Sunday night, and can't do anything about it. Until this little gem came our way, because it's all stuff we have around all the time. Diets be damned!
February 06, 2009
To enter, just leave a comment with your email and I'll pick a winner next Friday.
I spent the week researching some printing options, and I'm able to lower prices on everything, and offer different finishes and sizes, up to 16x20. I'm having a local lab print the photos, and everything can be printed on Fuji Lustre or Metallic finish. The metallic is very glossy, and colors look amazing and crisp on it.
I'm also working on new non-photography products that will be coming soon. I'll keep you posted.
I ordered the Satsuma (yummy), Fresh Lemon Sugar, and the Bamboo Charcoal bars. I'll probably have to hide the Satsuma one or Gord is likely to eat it. He's been known to lick the Pumpkin Spice bar we have going now. Silly boy. He should know that you grate them over ice cream. Honestly, I can't go back to mass produced soap when handmade smells 3,000 times better. Plus, the people at Zest can't possibly be as nice as Cara was.
February 05, 2009
And that's pretty much how I felt on Dayquil.
-"I'm just saying this to end the fight/shut you up"
-"I'm giving up"
-"I'll say whatever it takes to get back to my game/my book"
Gord and I were discussing this tonight and we have a solution. Gord came up with the name Randy-gram, btw. If this takes off, he wants 1/2 the credit.
Randy Travis is the only man on earth who sounds sincere no matter what he says.
When he says "I'm gonna love you forever and ever", you can't help but believe it.
When he says "The best part of waking up is Folgers in your cup", you believe that too.
So what we're proposing is a website where you could send Randy an apology, he would record it and email you the audio file. When you played this for whomever you have wronged, they would instantly forgive you. Because Randy just sounds so damn sincere.
Exhibit A is going to make you want to grab your honey and do the two step, so get ready.
February 04, 2009
They had a special on CBC about the One Million Acts, and interviewed some interesting businesses. There's a hair salon in Vancouver that uses organic vegetable based hair dyes, the Furniture Bank in Toronto - this is a really cool idea, because we've all seen furniture just sitting on the curb. The parking lot at our old apartment in Calgary was basically a furniture store, and it's such a waste. I know how hard it is to get someone to pick up your old furniture. Places like Value Village and Salvation Army expect you to bring it in yourself, and if you don't have a truck, or parents with a mini van, you just leave the stuff by the dumpster in the dark of night, and hope it gets taken in by a loving family. If it isn't, you're stuck pretending it isn't yours whenever you pass it on the way to the bus stop. Not that I know from personal furniture abandonment...
My favorite business is Rustic Overtones run by a man in Nova Scotia, he makes furniture and art from things people would just throw in a landfill. These are some of my favorites, and if I weren't so poor and low on space, I'd buy them.
February 03, 2009
The capacity is there, and the emotion is there, but the ability to effectively communicate it isn't developed as relentlessly in young boys as it is in girls, and it's everyone's loss. I mock Mandatory Love Day, because the premise is a little horrifying. That there's one day a year where your lover can come up with some stock gesture, flowers, candy, whatever so long as it's heart shaped, and all the women in the world are supposed to live off that one gesture all year. It's like giving us a potato (Heart shaped potato) in February and wondering why we're starving in June.
So to all the men out there that I may have pissed off by saying you have 1/8th the capacity of women - don't take it out on the women in your life. You could even take the opportunity to tell them, with well chosen words, exactly what they mean to you. Don't crap out and get a card with a poem on it. Don't take the easy way out and clean the garage, or mow the lawn.
We don't want heart shaped anything. Just a little heart felt sincerity, wrapped up with words. Don't ask me what you're supposed to say. I don't know why you love the woman that you do. But you should, and she should hear all about it on a regular basis.
Think of it as an oil change on the love bus, or a save point in the relationship game, or whatever makes sense in the language you speak, little crayon box.
The male crayon box contains 1 yellow (happy), 1 blue (sad) 1 red (angry) and 1 black (my team lost the playoffs) crayon. The other 4, he believes, are varying degrees of hunger.
Women have about 32 shades of orange, red, pink, flesh tones, magenta, rose, salmon, etc, etc, etc, that are all technically in the Red family. When a man encounters one of these emotions - say salmon (disappointment) or rose (resignation with a hint of despair), he frantically searches his crayon box for a match. What does that look like? A HA!
Thus the man will ask, with trepidation,
"Are you mad?"
To which the woman can quite honestly say,
"No, I'm not mad."
And the man scratches his head. He thinks to himself, well, she's either lying or she's hungry. He's still nervous, because there's something in the air that feels like a thing he should be able to name, but having eyes that only see primary colors, it is indistinct. He hopes that if he stays very still and very quiet, perhaps it will go away.
It is around this point that the salmon or rose has turned to a deep flashing red, and the man realizes there is no escape. There's going to be 'a discussion'. This is the first time the man begins to discern what rose (resignation with a hint of despair) looks like.
It is only by these small increments that you can acclimate a man to new emotions. After a long period of remedial color study, he will recognize that those 4 stages of hunger were in fact fledgling emotions, waiting to be acknowledged.
I fully understand and admit that this theory is not applicable to all people. So don't bitch me out if you are offended, you are probably an exception. If you want something official, send me your address and I can mail you a full color certificate confirming your exemption.
February 02, 2009
When I broke the internet last week, Gord somehow managed to put it back better than before. We had never been able to have both laptops connected to the internet before, because our wireless was crap. But now, thanks to my incompetence and Gord's perseverance (good combo) we can have both laptops working off the wireless, and it doesn't take 2 hours to load a page. HAH! No more guilt on my part when I want to spend 3 hours window shopping the internet. No more guilt for Gord when he wants to play Xbox live.
And I completely forgot to move the car this morning. Being on the wrong side of the street costs $40. So I bolt up in a panic way after 9AM and rush outside to find that the traffic fairies have either been kind, or not been at all.
To celebrate this good fortune, I watched 4 episodes of CBC's Being Erica. It's been advertised ad nauseum, so I thought I would bite, and it's good eating. It's Canadian, which means it has 1/2 the cast of Degrassi, and a bunch of other stock players you will recognize from other shows. Canada only has 25 actors and they just pass from one set to another. The premise is interesting, Erica has a list of huge mistakes in her past that she obsesses over, and her therapist (?) somehow allows her to go back in time and make different choices. Who wouldn't take that chance if offered? All the episodes are online, I don't know if it works for anyone outside of Canada or not, like stupid ABC Family and their policy of holding The Secret Life of the American Teenager hostage every week just because I don't live in the US. I know there's some jackassy bureaucratic reason for it, but all that does is force me to watch it on Megavideo, where I don't get the benefit of all the ABC Family advertisers. Self defeating much? We've already established that I am open to suggestion. I see a cheeseburger commercial @ 2AM on a Sunday, I google '24 hour McDonalds Montreal'. I'm an advertisers dream, except for the whole being poor thing.
In other news, did you guys know they make chocolate Chex mix? It's awesome. I imagine it goes really well with the munchies.