Cold on the brain

I love extreme weather, I really do. Even this cold spell is making me marvel. But I'm having a hard time reconciling my awe for dame nature and my hatred for this cold. I come from Southern California, born and raised. We wear shorts in the winter. We stick our tongues out at the cameras filming the rose parade. We cluck about how we live in God's country.

But I am no longer one of them. I am now the one watching the rose parade, flipping all those shorts wearing people off. I shiver more in a winter here than I did in 30 years in California.

At least there are no insects. They are all sleeping now. Apparently, the insects adapted to this climate burrow into the crooks of trees and into the ground to"hibernate", antifreeze coursing through their bodies waiting for the spring thaw. It's a cool trick and I wish I could do it.

Bah!

It's days like yesterday, I ask myself, "What the hell am I doing here!?" It was the coldest day of the year with biting winds and frigid temps. I arrived at my lessons with snotcicles and cheek burns. I found myself cursing the razorblade winds, which is very unlike me. OMG, I just saw three joggers pass by. They looked like they were wearing rubber wetsuits. Yes, as I'm typing about the ridiculousness of the climate, I see joggers. This makes me feel wimpy. Or it makes them crazy. Yes, that's it, they. are. crazy.

It was about 35 below with the windchill yesterday. But I noticed Winnipeg had 50 below. Note to self: Never, ever consider moving to Winnipeg. Apparently, this air is the coldest in the world right now. It's considerably warmer at the North Pole even as we speak. I am not shitting you.

If you are experiencing a "cold snap", just be thankful you're not up here. It's insane. And I want it to go away. Now would be good.

News from Quebec

Up here, there's a wide debate raging over "reasonable accomodation" of immigrant cultures into our own. This term "reasonable accomodation" has been appearing in the media daily, for months. I have watched as the media has made this into an issue when there really shouldn't be one. Recently, there have been several "incidents" reported by the media that, in my mind, were not media worthy.

First, there was the Hasidic community center whose director approached the manager of the YMCA next door and asked them to frost the windows so that the men wouldn't see the half naked women doing the aerobics classes. The director offered to pay for the frosting of the windows and the YMCA manager agreed. Then some of the members of the Y got wind of it and protested. How is this news? Two managers agree to do something and one of them has angry customers. Happens every day. But no, this has to be on the news every night, whipping everyone into a froth over the "unreasonableness" of the accomodation.

In 1994, the supreme court of Canada ruled that certain paid holidays had to be given to Jewish employees to respect their religion. 1994. But in the news today, we're reading all about the unfairness of the Jews getting extra holidays compared to their coworkers. If anything, this is dead news. (Though I agree, it's not fair.)

In some cultures, the mixing of the sexes is permitted under only very specific circumstances. As such, men prefer to have male driver's test examiners, for example. So they ask, and it is granted. And then it's widely reported in the media as special treatment.

Rounding out these incidents is the permission of Sikh members to wear a turban working as RCMP officers. And the courts granting of a ceremonial kirpan (little knife thing) to be worn to school.

The whole idea here is that if it doesn't infringe on someone else's freedom, then it's unreasonable to deny it.

Complicating the problem is that the news is controlled by three organizations up here and they are all trying to be king. This "reasonable accomodation" thing has struck a chord with the public and they are milking it for all it's worth. Every day, we see new polls on how Quebecers are either racist or not, and how they feel about immigrants. It seems to me they are fanning the fires of xenophobia.

Propoganda is very powerful.

If you'd like to read a little about these incidents, you can start here, here and here.

This 'n that for a Sunday morning

Em asked me yesterday, "If you already emptied ND's apartment, why did you bother going to the hearing? I mean, now you're in the system, aren't you?" As she well knows, I prefer to remain "out" of ANY system. Well, Serge thought that we would have a slam dunk case and then be able to hold ND's things ransom for the "judgement". I figured it would be a good learning experience, to see how the system works and I really didn't care what the outcome was since we had already taken action. And it was a good learning experience, I learned that the rental board is there to protect renters. And it is there to force owners to cross their t's and dot their i's. I thought that given the circumstances of the case, we shouldn't have had a finger wagged at us, but maybe the judge was having troubles of her own. (She sure didn't seem human, but I've seen enough TV shows to know that they're people too.)

I want to make mango sorbet today. I have never purchased a mango and the recipe calls for "firm, yet ripe" mangoes. Yesterday, as I was in the market fondling the mangoes, I realized that they all seemed firm, but had no idea how to tell if they were ripe. I looked around to see if they had some kind of information panel, you know, "How to choose a mango" or some such thing. Of course there was none. But they would probably sell more fruits and veggies if they did more informing. Imagine if you'd never seen an orange. You wouldn't know what to do with it! Anyway I bought some mangoes, but I have no idea if they are "ripe".

Fruity questions: Do you eat the fur on a Kiwifruit? How do you peel a Papaya? Why are there no warning labels about the dangers of the Apricot and Peach pits?

Sighing, sara and suppositoires(sic)

Everything fell into place yesterday. I landed two more contracts pushing me over my target for the session. And last evening we signed a lease for ND's former apartment and she's moving in tomorrow. If my sigh were an earthquake, it would be of destructive magnitude. Oh and receiving the tax bill and discovering that the taxes only increased by 7 percent was also fabulous news. Solvency, here we come!

Sara has improved so much that she is back to jumping up onto the couch. I used to frown on this behaviour but now it's a barometer of good health. She's on aspirin and glucosamine and it really seems to be working. She does have quite a large cist under her left front leg which we will need to get checked out/drained soon. It doesn't seem to bother her in any way.

Remember that joke I told you about that had spouse and I peeing our pants? Well, it doesn't translate well in English because it turns on a particular Quebecer sarcasticness. (sarcacity?) I filmed him as he told our friend Dan the joke. Good luck on your French listening exercise!

Snippets

* I've got no time for these today. This will become evident as you read on.

* Playing scrabble while inebriated and yakking with Serge, someone accused me of cheating. I poked fun at the person accusing me. They had been incensed because I played the word misspend.

* Why does a liquid cup and a dry goods cup seem to be a different size. Isn't a cup a cup?

* I tuck my long underwear into my socks.

* I love when pets hump things and their embarrassed owners get all flustered.

* Did you know regular soap also kills 99 % of bacteria. We are paying extra for the stupid word "antibacterial" on the label.

* Spouse hates it if you fiddle with his toes, especially the nails.

* If we could all just accept the one thing we are not satisfied with , we'd all be a lot happier.

* I can't fathom where the word "painstaking" came from. There is no "painstake" as far as I know.
* The snow collects much as bird guano on the tops of statues. Same effect, but without the ick factor.

Unfruitful

The rental board, or Régie de Logement, is a kind of pre-court whose job it is to help renters and owners settle their grievances. This is their stated mission. It is basically a court that handles only this type of case. The decisions can be appealed and parties can go to civil court if the decision of the board is carried out incorrectly or to contest the decision. We know that nude dancer will never pay, nor appeal, and it's looking more and more likely that he's just going to disappear for good. (I think you're wrong Farmboyz, though I haven't donned a garment of his yet.)

So we go to the board for our hearing and are kept waiting for an hour before we are finally called into the courtroom. The judge asks us for the lease and the proof that we served him the notice of the hearing. Nude dancer, of course, is not present. I briefly explain that he has abandonned the apartment, and detail the last two verbal contacts we had with him. Then she tells us that we didn't try to serve him the paper hard enough, that people can be found and it was our job to do it. We protested! He has deliberately prevented us from knowing his whereabouts. He has no bank account, no mail arriving, no phone number, no job that we know of. (We think he is a nude dancer but this info came from Pornstar. He has only claimed to us to be "in construction". Yes, we could have prowled the nude dancer places looking for him, but we didn't feel that was reasonable. Not that we don't enjoy such places, it just seemed beyond the call of duty. Apparently not.) She informed us that there are private investigators in the city (how many hundreds are we supposed to spend in addition to the god damned mother fucking lost rent, oh sorry grandma, lost my head there) and that she would render her decision in the next few days. "Thank you, goodbye." (She must have just watched the Devil Wears Prada and tried out her Meryl impression. Or maybe she caught a rerun of that gameshow - I'm wracking my brain and can't think of it - you know, where she says "Goodbye" with her inimitable curtness - someone will remember in the comments)

Serge was pissed. I was slightly amused as I knew this whole affair would be pointless which is why I had already emptied the place. Serge tried to ask the judge what happens to his stuff if she grants the termination of the lease. She ever so functionarily informed us that she was a judge and that there were pamphlets addressing that in the lobby. And for this we paid over a hundred bucks?

We came home from the hearing and had a message on the machine. Someone who looked at nude dancer's apartment Monday would like to apply for it. I broke out in a broad smile at the Universe's benevolence. (It doesn't mean it's rented, just nice to see some interest.)

I'll let you know when we receive the tribunal's decision.

State of the morning

It's the last day of January. It's cold. The kind of cold that stifles motors and renders batteries useless. The moon is hanging low in the western sky outside my office window. I can almost see it moving as it descends. Soon it will be below the horizon. It seems to get bigger as it descends, but I know this is the magnifying effect of the atmosphere. It's rather magical all the same. I'm watching the first bus of the route leave. I think about how I will be on that bus Friday morning. The streets are quiet. In a couple of hours the street will be bumper to bumper traffic leading toward downtown. For now, the only sounds I hear are the clicking of the typing on the key pad and the fan whir of the computer. The coffee, freshly brewed, fills the house with a chewy aroma, and is robust as it slides down my throat. Spouse is sleeping on the couch, and Sara is sleeping on her doggie bed. Spouse is not sleeping on the couch because of some marital discord, no, this is his normal falling asleep place at least three times per week. The sun will not arrive for another hour or so, and then I will stand in the kitchen watching the sky as it hues orange, then pink, then powder blue. It is then I will prepare my bagel and cream cheese. I love this time of day, enjoying it solitarily, grateful, peaceful.

Later we have the eviction hearing before the judge. But there's no stress (I slept like a log last night - whoopee!) because no matter what happens, there will be another morning, another sunrise, another solitary routine. The moon will continue to set just as surely as the sun will rise. And I am comforted.

A smoke whine

I often wonder about tobacco and it's amazingly addictive properties. I also wish that I had never "trained" myself to be a smoker, because it took some serious-minded effort to develop a taste for cigarettes. I ask, "Why was there this terribly addictive drug marketed to me throughout my youthful, formative years?" If only it hadn't existed, perhaps I could have avoided what has resulted in the biggest challenge of my adult life - quitting. Now, if we just outlawed smoking, yes, a fourth (or fifth or tenth depending on your location) of the population would have a pretty rough year. But eventually, out of sight-out of mind would win out, and people would live longer, healthier and decidedly less stinky lives. It could be a gift from our generation to the next. And wouldn't it be so much easier to be forced to quit en masse? There would be plenty of company to commiserate with.

But no.

As is the case with the oil companies, there is just too much profit to be made from the poisoning of lungs. This profit pulls strings, and the people are rendered powerless. (to clarify, expecting every person to have the strength to quit smoking is tantamount to expecting everyone to just boycott buying gasoline. It's not a reasonable expectation.) Don't expect tobacco to become a controlled substance any time soon.

And so I struggle. Deep down, I only have myself to blame, and only I can break the addiction. Still, allow me to take this time to lash out at the oligarchy we live in..

The root of all evil

Last night's movie was "Who Killed the Electric Car?" Serge doesn't usually go much for documentaries, but he was slowly but surely outraged as the tale of the demise of the zero-emissions Electric vehicle was detailed. From the beginning of the film, I kept muttering, "It's the oil companies". The film doesn't target any one particular party for murdering the car, but this following point was most telling. And it rankled Serge the most.

This guy developed this battery that let you drive for 300 miles per charge. This was a great breakthrough because the consumer was nervous about buying a car that only let you go 100 miles per charge. General Motors bought the patent. And then sold it. To whom? Texaco. The batteries ceased being made. (Surprise, surprise!)

Serge kept saying, "why, why?" And the sad truth is that the oil companies will do anything to protect their profit stream. Including destroying the planet and destroying any emerging technology that would ween our dependence from oil. They are no better than heroin dealers.

(Another interesting nugget was how, 50 years ago, the oil companies quietly bought municipal trolley systems that ran on electricity. Then they switched this form of public transportation to fuel based vehicles.)

But the consumer is bad too, an oil junkie, and you know how hard it is to break an addiction.

This 'n that for a Sunday morning

It's brutally cold, man. We always end up in the icebox for a few weeks every year, and though we had a very warm beginning of winter, we are now well below normal for the period. Winter acivities for me are limited to ice skating (once per year) and sliding down the hill on the crazy carpet (once per year). I claim to ski, but truth be told, I haven't skied since I lived in Southern California. Here, I always decide, "it's too cold to ski."


There is a snow festival every year here. It started this weekend. I have never been. It is always too cold to ponder spending the day outside standing in line for beaver tails. (This is a kind of waffle/doughnut thing in the shape of a beaver tail with chocolate goo slathered on it. And bananas if you like, and I do.)

So we stay home. The video rental store is directly across the street, and I picked up a few movies for last night. We watched Click and United 93. Click was a fun movie I must say, however, I really wish Adam Sandler took some diction lessons. How has he become a star speaking so slushily as it were? And United 93 reminded me of watching Titanic. You know it's going to end tragically, but you're still drawn in, hoping for the survival of the characters. Even Serge was riveted. I was crying helplessly as the people called to say a final I love you to loved ones. And for the hijackers, I just kept thinking, "Cowards."

Snippets brrr

* It's butt-clenching cold here. Of course this is the day that finds me standing at a bus stop for 20 minutes after my first class.

* I'm going to try that thing, imagining a fire in your belly and see if it helps.

* While dining for mom's 60th, the subject of my cousins, the hemmies, came up. (Damn that Serge.) She blandly announced that her mother (my grandmother!) had had the operation and had said that it didn't work. "Well, I remembered that," she chuckled. And then she shared her method of relief. It felt all cozy getting the family remedy. I hope the table next to us wasn't following along.

* Then I told the tale of being on a cruise ship lunching with eight strangers when one of them proclaimed that spray deoderant shrinks those things right up.

* I finally finished The Alchemist. In French. Plus, it was written in passé simple. This is a way of conjugating the verbs that is not used while speaking. Kind of like reading old English I imagine with all the thous, and eths etc. Awesome book, it makes you wonder if you're really fulfilling your purpose here on earth. And that's probably good for all of us to ponder.

* I watched Inside Edition last evening. I was alternately laughing and horrified. Who cares about these skanky rich kids and their debauchery? Every time they said, "According to our inside sources" I thought, "non-truth". I was laughing because I didn't know who most of the people were.

* Today's a two pack of kleenex day. My nose will be a veritable snot spout in that ridiculously cold air.

* I got this from a link from lemuel. Put the following animals in order of preference. Cow, horse, sheep, tiger, pig. Just write down your preference in order and I'll reveal what it (smirk, supposedly) means in the comments.

ND update

Well we had hoped that nude dancer would have come around by now, but still no sign and no word from him. The hearing is less than a week away. We tried to notify him of the hearing by registered letter, but since he doesn''t live here, he never received it. Yesterday, I discovered that that isn't enough. Apparently, we have more homework to do. We need to call a "huissier" to come pick up the papers, knock on his door, leave and write up a report stating what we already know. (That he's not there.) Then the judge will deem us as having adequately tried to notify him. Another $50 hoop to jump through, and for what? I guess to "witness" and certify our claim. Anyway, huissier translates to "usher", so I really don't get it. But the huissier is coming today.

We're starting to ponder all of nude dancer's belongings in the garage. I have a feeling he has disappeared and started anew so he can't be found. The guy really didn't have a whole lot to his name, a couple tvs and clothes was basically it. But the clothes were really nice, and we do have the same coat size. So perhaps some new wardrobe items will come from this.

I did follow up with the spca. Nude dancer never claimed his cat, but the cat was adopted by someone. So that's good news.

Beware of finger

It's just before spouse gets home. I am slipping in a last game of scrabble before he gets here. The dog is stuck to me, reminding me of her dinnertime. As long as I pet her, she stays calm, but if I stop she begins to harumph every 10 seconds or so, each harumph imbued with crescendoing whimpering until I either pet her some more or feed her. It's a ritual often played out between us two. So I finish the game and go to the kitchen to prepare Sara's dinner. She tries to jump and I tell her not to and she does it anyway even though half the time her back legs crumble beneath her. First, put a couple small scoops of dry into the bowl, go get the open can of wet food (liver flavor!) in the fridge and scoop some into the bowl. Add a little water and stir it up with a fork. Top with aspirin and glucosamine. There is a pesky piece of food that won't quit the fork. Spouse calls. Do I need anything at the store? I keep banging the fork onto the bowl but it won't budge. So I scrape it off with my finger. "As a matter of fact, we're out of vodka. Do you want a martini when you get home?"

And then I licked my finger. Whole finger in mouth, dog food residue scraped onto back of teeth. (Doing two things at once is a challenge for me apparently.)

And you know what? It really wasn't that horrific. Kind of like bland liverwurst. Good to know that if times get dire, I can always crack open a can of Pedigree.

Still, I cannot believe I did that.

Question of the day

I fell down the stairs yesterday. You know how people "power walk"? Well, I do a mean power fall. Remember the cream pie guy on Sesame street? Always there at the end of whatever number being taught to fall spectacularly with his tray of cream pies. Well, that was me yesterday on the stairs. I was carrying a snow shovel which I also somehow fell on and sliced open my arm. It took my breath away. This occurred as I was heading out to shovel the walkway in front of our building. There were no witnesses (thank gawd). After collecting myself and figuring out how to breathe again, I sat there a few minutes and realized I was not seriously injured.

I stood up and went out the door to shovel the snow and "screeeeeeeeeech...crash" , a major collision occurred on the street right in front of me. Both drivers were okay but their cars? Totalled. And as I shoveled the snow I thought about energy and coincidence. (Was there some energy in the air conspiring against us? Don't be ridiculous, coincidence, that's all. But some say there is no such thing as coincidence. Oh c'mon superstitiousness is silly. Maybe it was a sign? Okay, but what would the sign be telling? Etc.)

So, energy or coincidence?

Squat down to my level, won't you?

Another half an hour sitting in front of this darn screen. When little transpires in life, there is little to report. I did wake up in the middle of the night to poo. This is highly unusual for me. It's also highly disconcerting to be forced awake by the fear of shitting the bed. I'm not mentioning any names but someone else in the bed has twice sullied the sheets over the years. Apparently, he wakes with more difficulty than I. It is a rude awakening, let me tell you, for the both of us.

Aren't you glad you came by for edification?

In other non-news, we have officially switched to the commercial toilet paper that pornstar left in the garage. As you'll recall, there are dozens of cases of these giant rolls.
No, it is in no way ideal. Still, at a penny a wipe, that shit adds up. (yuk yuk yuk)

Druggy Sunday

I took a Xanax once and fell asleep within 5 minutes before I even "felt" anything. A fellow food server had given it to me, and she swore that it helped her get through her shift. Thankfully, I took mine after my shift at home and woke up on that same couch 5 hours later, discombobulated (What happened? Where am I? What time is it?). I never took another.

Once, I took a (I can't remember the word, round? series? ) of steroids for 12 weeks in order to maximize my workout results. A fellow food server had sold them to me and I had to inject myself with a syringe in the ass everyday. It seemed to work but at the same time made me perpetually cranky. I never did that again.

There was that time, so long ago, where a skanky guy did a trick in the kitchen at the end of a party. He cooked up some cocaine in a spoon, gently playing with the lighter torch, until the cocaine melted, bubbled and smoked. Then we inhaled this smoke through a straw. I think this is called free basing. I immediately, and I mean immediately vomited. I never did that again.

I was prescribed Zyban once to quit smoking. After it caused terrible insomnia the first week, I turned into "mean" tornwordo. Nobody could wait until I got off those pills, including me.

I used to say that I would try anything once. I'm not so concerned about the legality of such things as I am with the likelyhood of getting caught. That's all that counts. In this way, I have discovered that most drugs are "bad" for me. That is, I don't see the benefit. But it is only from my experience that I speak, not because I have accepted what I've been told. Still, you probably won't be seeing me trying heroin any time soon.

Waiting

I've been sitting here for a half an hour now and nothing is coming forth. I live on a major thoroughfare in Montreal. At rush hour, it is bumper to bumper heading into or out of downtown. But on a Saturday morning before dawn, there is very little action. I have seen two joggers. Joggers in the dark on icy sidewalks seems odd to me, especially on a Saturday morning.

Life is pretty quiet right now, which seems to impact my writing. (was that the lamest bunch of snippets or what?) Spouse is still nursing his cold and buried in work while I try to mentally prepare for a full work week ahead. I'm still waiting to know what the work week will look like, as I haven't received confirmation of my contracts. We're waiting for the apartment to find a renter, and we're still waiting for the property tax bill. The bill is due Feb 1st and we still have not received the bill stating the amount. How many thousands will it be? We don't know because they reevaluated all the property this year and both of ours doubled since the last evaluation three years ago. Don't worry, they say, you're taxes won't double - we will adjust the tax rate. So basically the bill will be somewhere between $6000 and $12000. We don't have $12000. So I really hope it is not that.

I think a third paragraph is necessary. Two doesn't look right. Three is better. Maybe it's like flower arranging. Odd numbers only. Good Saturday everyone.

Senseless snippets

* Students hate that "flour" and "flower" have the same pronunciation. "How do we know which one someone is talking about? That doesn't make sense to spell it differently if it sounds the same." I always respond that the world makes no sense either, but there it is.

* Sometimes as an example I ask the ladies if they shave their legs. After the unanimous affirmative, I say, "There you go. You have no problem with that making no sense."

* The male students usually need something firmer (and less metaphoric) like, "Spending our time wanting things to be different impedes progress. You've got to accept that there is often no logic to it"

Other examples of why the world we live in makes no sense:

* People killing others based on what they think a character in a book wishes them to do.

* Kids who, wanting not to look uncool, go outside with no cap when it's 40 below with the wind chill.

* Plants, fooled into thinking it's spring, burst forth in early January. Then the rampant murder of would-be blossoms.

* The existence of billionaires as people starve to death.

* Third nipples.

------------------------

* Gotta go catch the 5:30 bus, work begins anew!

When pricelessness costs nothing

Not spending money is a game to me. Yesterday was a zero spending day, the kind that makes me proud. It's true that people usually spend the bulk of their discretionary income on cramming things into their mouth. I am no different. Consequently, if you can get on board with tap water, you can save a bundle.

It was so cold here yesterday that the birds were clustered on the chimneytops warming themselves. It was still below zero by afternoon (-18C) and when I went into the kitchen to make banana bread, I realized I was out of flour. I went upstairs to see if I could borrow some. (I had just seen Ethel come up to Lucy's to borrow some, otherwise I probably wouldn't have considered this.) Unfortunately, no flour upstairs either. Then I looked in my cabinets again, and poof! there was a sack of flour that I swear had not been there before.

One hour later, hot buttered banana bread for spouse and I to share. He had called in sick, partly due to my cajoling, and partly due to his sickyness. (a nasty winter cold.) We showed the apartment a couple more times (no takers yet) and finished off the day with American Idol, (the incessant mocking of the untalented is really starting to turn my stomach) beer and mushroom goat cheese pizzas.

A heavenly day at home, priceless.

The retardedest post

Winter is finally here. -10F (-23C) this morning and though I love the coziness inside, it comes at a hefty price. They ain't givin away electricity you know. The goal for today is to make do with everything I have in the house so I do not have to set foot outside. Unfortunately, I'm yarnless so I can't knit. I cleaned the house and shoveled the huge pile of snow yesterday, so that's done. I don't go back to work for real until this Friday. What shall I do stuck inside, yarnless and choreless? Here are some possiblilties:

* Finish watching the third season of I Love Lucy.
* Finish reading The Alchemist
* Convince spouse to call in sick so he can amuse me
* Make new Pandora channels
* Make banana bread
* Play Literati (yahoo's version of scrabble)
* Reflect on the boringness of my life stuck inside

Of course the bright sun shining off the snow outside will beckon, "Get outside!" But I'm no fool. 10 minutes out there and you're toast. See you in the Literati room (intermediate lounge).

2500 stitches later

Here is the scarf I finished yesterday. This one only took me 12 hours to complete because I used thicker yarn. Oh and this is the yarn I bought some months ago at a yarn shop. It is Merino wool which made it cost baaatloads of money. $70. I'm happy with my final product, but I am also fully aware I could have bought 4 wool scarves (already completed) with the same money.


And of course I have to do the requisite modeling of the scarf in the bathroom mirror.

I noticed that they sold skeins of yarn at the giant dollar store downtown. I'm fairly certain they are all spun with 100% non-wool products. But since the next thing I'm going to make will go on my feet, I'm going to need some durable, synthetic fiber. Like acrylic. This is just the kind of thing they have at the dollar store.

Anybody have a good (which for mean means EASY) bootie pattern for knitting? I need to make spouse and I some matching ones.

Emptied

What is your biggest fear? "Not to succeed in life," was nude dancer's written response. As I was cleaning up the mountain on the desk, a paper detailing every person that has "wronged" him was there, explaining his resentment towards his family members and acquaintances. This had fallen out of a folder of his writings and included a long psychological survey. I cleared a corner of the bed and sat down to get in touch with my inner voyeur. It was painful stuff, the kind of things you read on Post Secret. Began stealing at the age of 8, refined his skills and stole every day until he was 16 and got caught. He learned early on to manipulate people to achieve his ends. He is very proud of this ability and knows how to play the angel. "I played the angelic kid well, always happy and excited. But inside, I hated everything and I just wanted to die." He hates his father, who beat him regularly and never believed in him. He blames his father for poisoning the relationship with his wife and turning his mother against him. He seeks vengence on those who hurt him, he has destroyed reputations by spreading falsehoods. He has nothing to be afraid of, and yet he is always afraid.

My hands were shaking as I read it. But at the same time, it confirmed what I suspected. A fucked-up childhood led to a fucked-up adulthood, perhaps a psychopath in the making. I put the papers back into the folder and boxed it up with his other things. His penmanship was impeccable.

It took about 5 hours to pack up and move everything to the garage. Posted an ad in the evening and we already have someone to come look at it this evening. Today, my legs are noodles.

Kitchen table clues

We got a call Friday night. It was nude dancer. He wouldn't be able to come and pick up his things until Monday or Tuesday, sorry sorry sorry, and Serge, bless his heart said, "we can't trust anything you say anymore and we need to get that place rented." Remember we had left him a message Wednesday saying he had until Saturday to come get his shit. So he promised to come Monday (or Tuesday) and also promised to pass by Saturday to give us some money (it was a lie but I don't think he can help himself).

I decided not to wait. So I went up yesterday with trash bags and Windex and started on the kitchen. The details of his life were displayed in the pile on the kitchen table. A pile of garbage seemingly, cigarette butts, junk mail, rolling papers, food wrappings, mail, papers of various kinds. Here is a letter we gave him a month ago, torn in two. Here is a notice stating that the cut off of his welfare payments would be December 1st. Here is a three month Cocaine Anonymous chip. Here are the divorce papers and the judge's decree for spousal/child support. (He has a boy with a name that begins with "Z".) Here is his 6 month CA chip. Here is a letter from a roommate: "I have to go because I can't tolerate the mess anymore. Maybe I'll see you at a meeting." Here is the notice of revocation of his driving license. Here is his wedding picture. Here is a mirror with white powder remnants on it.

And as I cleaned the filth in the kitchen, the rotting matter in the sink and the cat turds on the floor, I felt terribly sad. I had no remorse for the action we're taking but I just hate seeing someone's life go into the toilet.

Today we're boxing up his personal stuff and moving it into the garage.

Goal review and revision

As I do each year, I make a list of ten goals and tape them to the computer so that they are constant reminders. The first thing to do is to see how I did on the previous year's goals, and decide which ones to carry over. Last year's goals and the outcome:

1. Read two books in French: This is done. This is also something I want to continue.

2. Quit smoking: I quit March 17th and failed to stay quit on my birthday July 29th. This is also something that needs to go on 2007's list.

3. Learn a new skill: Both knitting and meditation. I think I'll carry this one over too.

4. Travel to a place I've never been before: Ottawa and New Brunswick. I love this one and even though it might be tricky this year, I'm gonna put it on this year's list.

5. Maintain workout regimen: Yep. I treat it like a workshift. The only way out of it is to be in bed sick. So I've maintained, yes.

6. Increase income by 10%: I'm not sure I reached this goal. I'm not sure if I care that I didn't reach it. This one is NOT going on the next year's list.

7. Finish 2nd bedroom remodeling: This is funny. We finished ALL the remodeling and in three short weeks in September before we moved to the new place.

8. Write every day: It was mostly every day.

9. Compose two new songs: Failed! I composed zero new songs. It's hard to explain, but the music writes itself. I just haven't gotten into the space where the music uses my hands to write it. I think I'll change this to "play the piano an hour a week."

10. Find and participate in a local sweatlodge ceremony: Again I failed. This is no longer a goal, if it happens , it happens. I would like to do more selfwork of some kind......

Goals 2007

1. Read two books in French

2. Quit smoking

3. Learn a new skill

4. Travel to a place I've never been before

5. Maintain workout regimen

6. Land my own teaching contracts (ie: eliminate middleman)

7. Refinance first triplex and pull out 20 grand to help me sleep at night.

8. Write every day.

9. Play the piano at least an hour a week.

10. 86 nude dancer and then write what I learned about Myself from the experience.

Snippets

* A couple of recent teasers on CNN - "Pat Robertson has said God has spoken directly to him and he has dire predictions." (This is news?) "Foreclosures are on the rise, coming up "Mortgage Meltdown", learn how to make sure it doesn't happen to you." (I'm guessing paying the mortgage would prevent foreclosure.)

* Spouse told me a joke last night and we both fell into a fit of laughter, tears streaming down face, stomach muscles cramping and pee spotting. The joke was in French and is visual, otherwise I'd tell it to you.

* Funkifying: in the process of becoming stinky/rotten.

* Nude dancer's ex wife came poking around yesterday. She has no news either. He owes her child support. Sigh. He's running away from it all it seems.

* At Starbucks, the bagel and cream cheese costs less than a coffee.

* This site is a real time fritterer. I love it.

* How many gay guys does it take to come up with the lyrics for MTM's theme song? (See yesterday's comments for answer.)

* It looks like my classes' start times have been pushed back another week. Normally, I'd be thrilled about another week to fart around, but desperate finances are zapping the thrill.

* I finished "Letter to a Christian Nation". I'm back to my original thinking that religion is for the weak of mind. (Not spirituality, but religion with all the labels and inherent righteousness.)

This and that

Whenever I travel, I enjoy reading the local papers and the airline magazines. In the airline magazines, all sorts of useful things are advertised. It reminds me of the Sharper Image, a whole shop full of shiny things that we could all do without. I don't need a fogless shower mirror that plays cd's. Cool trick though.

In the local papers, I enjoy looking at the real estate ads, and then I kick myself for having sold our California property in 2001 which subsequently increased in value threefold. Sometimes I come across an article that interests me and then I cut it out and save it. This time around, it was a piece on Online Music Services. The article talks about many, and since we have this $50 itunes card, I thought I would look for some new music to buy. Well, I haven't even explored them all because I am so transfixed by Pandora. This site (I'm probably the last to know) lets you plug in a song or an artist that you like and then it plays similar songs and styles. You give the choices thumbs up or thumbs down and this helps Pandora choose additional music more wisely. The funny thing is that most of the songs chosen for me are pre 1970, lol.

Who can take the world on with a smile? Yes, the Mary Tyler Moore show song was selected for me, and I think I squealed with delight. Just when I think my gay card is going to be revoked for good, the universe gives me a wink and a nod.

Homefront update

There's still no snow here. I'm not complaining because lots of snow means lots of cold, and if this is evidence of global warming, hey, maybe it's not such a bad thing. (for our neck of the woods) The dog seems to be doing better, walking more, acting more playful. (Yay!) She may have some months in her yet.

As I mentioned, nude dancer called us the day after we went to California. It had been two weeks since he had been to his apartment and we figured (hoped actually) he was just going to disappear. No such luck. He left a message saying that he knew he had to move out and that he would pass by and grab his personal things and "try" to pay us what he owes us. (I kept the recordings of him promising to leave - just in case) We called him back and told him that his cat had been taken (to which he had no reaction whatsoever) and he asked us if we had changed the code to his apartment entry. We told him, "no, and please get your stuff out as soon as possible so that we can stop losing money." He apologized profusely (in my view, too profusely, he's got the chastised child routine down pat) and said he would be by to pick up his things. Then we got caught up in the vacation whirlwind and thought little about him until we arrived home.

He still has not set foot in his place. It's been three weeks. Obviously, he's living elsewhere and doesn't need his things for his day to day life at the moment. I was bugging Serge to call and give him the magic line, "We are going to throw all your shit out if you don't come over and get it." And last night he did. Granted it was a message left on an answering machine, but he'll get that message and he has until Saturday to show his face. If he doesn't, Serge and I will bag and box up his shit and move it into the garage. Then we'll try to rent the place out. I don't know if we're evicting him technically since he isn't even living there. Blog fodder be damned, I want the fucker gone!

What else? I start new classes next week, so I've got to get everything ready, close out the books for 2006 and set my goals for 2007. I tried my new ice cream maker yesterday and made a batch of banana walnut ice cream. It's delicious. It did cost about twice what I would have paid to buy it pre-made, however. Best not to dwell on that part.

A little vacation recap

We had a busy time of it, rushing here and there to dine with friends and family, shopping for the feast of three kings gifts and sleeping in separate beds - a treat we both enjoy. We slept as stones. The hotel was a Wyndham and upon arriving to our room, I discovered a terrible, terrible error on the room service breakfast door flyer.

I circled it, wrote "yum" and then left it face up on the bedside table each day. Each day the housekeeper returned it face down on my pillow. I imagine the next guests in that room will have a good laugh.

The lunches out were fun, celebrating mom's 60th and dining in downtown LA with Donna. Dinners out were also fun. We ate way too much mexican food (my innards are no longer accustomed I'm afraid) with dad and grandma and had a lovely Italian dinner with the boys.

Friday we attended the annual decoration of gingerbread men party which is kind of like an art party where you can eat the art.

Saturday was the three kings celebration and we had a lovely, champagne inspired evening where we netted a bundle of cash (thanks again!), a Cuisinart ice cream maker and $50 itunes gift card.

Finally, a little video of Bob's dog, Nicki. She kept rubbing herself on the grass in a suggestive, well, just watch.



Apparently, I'm still on West coast time hence the tardy wake up time. I'll update you on the homefront tomorrow.

Back but not ready

Got home late. Must go to work. The regaling will have to wait. It was nice to get away and not have to worry about things here (because why worry, when you're 3000 miles away, there's nothing you can do) but of course nude dancer had to call us the day after we left.

I took pics, but they still reside in the camera. Maybe by tomorrow, I can get it together.

Down time

Well folks, this is it for a spell. We are headed out to the west coast for a whirlwind 5 day visit to family and friends. Thank god mom springs for the plane tickets and that there is a thing called Priceline. We saved %70 on the hotel room and the rental car. They are forecasting Santa Ana winds for our arrival so the views should be spectacular. I will be taking lots of pics and some vids too to foist on you upon our return.

Today, we pack and prepare. I noticed that we are not allowed to bring any liquid/gel thing in a container larger than 100ml. Which means toothpaste is not allowed. It's in a 120ml container, don't you know. The million dollar idea of the year is the toiletry kiosk that should be set up in the arrival section of the airport. When that baby went through the scanner at LAX a couple weeks ago, it was probably because all the agents were busy confiscating toothpaste. (Did that sound bitter enough?)

I may check in while I'm there but don't count on it. At the very least I'll be back next Monday. Have a great first week of 2007 everyone!

It's that day again

Everything's so quiet. Everyone's holed up it seems, digesting Christmas and preparing for end of the year festivities. It's been a tranquil couple of days for us too. Spent most of yesterday at MIL's house and got a lot of knitting done. Tonight, party boy upstairs is having another one, and it's sure to be loud and late. I don't mention our other "neighbors" much but he is one of them. Most weekends he has a party that goes late. The clomp clomp clomping is disturbing, but it's the weekend so we just deal. We'll probably step out tonight, though I really loathe going anywhere public on this day. Everybody gets so messy and I (sniff, sniff, snob) don't care much to be around messiness.

It was terrible when I used to work in restaurants on this day. Invariably, some woman who had (unbeknownst to me) been eyeing me would insist on KISSING me on the LIPS at midnight. I don't think I have quite the same effect on women these days, but it reminds me of the time Serge and I went to Jackie's wedding (a bartender at the place I was managing). After several hours of champagne, the bride came up and french-kissed me and whispered, "I still wish it had been you" in my ear. It was a matter of three minutes before I had said my goodbyes and got out of there.

Then there was the time I was drenched with bottles of champagne at midnight, a case of employee enthusiasm gone wrong. I had to close the place squishing around in those clothes. God I was pissed.

I really have no big expectations for this "holiday", so I shouldn't be disappointed. And I guess it's requisite to wish everyone a happy new year, so consider that done. I'll see you all in the year of James Bond, the only 007 year any of us will know. (Excepting of course any centenarian readers.)

Snippets: What I learned in 2006

* First and foremost, that I am always capable of accomplishing more than I believe.

* Perhaps consequently, that I must put limits on my "doing". I have (and only just started) begun to learn how to relax my mind.

* How to meditate.

* That no matter how genuine a person seems, it is entirely possible that they are lying.

* What an anxiety attack is. I had always pooh-poohed the existence of them, until I had one.

* That hemmerhoids cause itching. (Sure the commercials mentioned it, but I reserve the gift of my belief until I have experience.)

* That there are a huge group of interesting, good-hearted individuals in the blogosphere.

* How to take and edit movies from my camera.

* That there really is no bad or good. Only what is.

* Many, many words in French and English. I don't keep a list, but I will in 2007. I love me a good running list.

* That my farts could be mistaken for egg sandwich.

* Why it can snow when there are no clouds. (Only at temps below -20C/ -6F, and it is called diamond dust. It just materializes out of thin air. )

* That I can ride my bike thirty minutes and be in the company of deer.

* How to make carmelized onions. (Thanks John!)

* What it's like to visit Miami, Puerto Vallarta, Cozumel, Jamaica (blech!), Grand Cayman, Ottawa, most of New Brunswick and a refresher course on Big Sur.

* That the older I get, the more the days seem precious, even as they slip ever more swiftly by.

This 'n that

Well we went to the rental board yesterday and filed the eviction request for nude dancer. He's been absent for over a week now, so we haven't had a chance to pitch options to him. The hearing won't be until the beginning of February, but I don't know if I'm willing to wait that long. We'll just have to see if he shows his face around here anymore. If he doesn't, we might just take things into our own hands and empty his place. At least the animal has been rescued. Yesterday, the SPCA came and took away the poor cat. They have to wait a while to see if the owner wants to claim it (hahahahaha), and then it will be put up for adoption. We had to send a certified letter to him informing him of the action taken but he will never get this letter, nor go to pick it up at the post office. He has a dozen such notices on his kitchen table amongst the detritus.

Some of you remarked about my skinniness in the videos. Well, that's what stress'll do for you, however real or imagined the stressors are. There was a day last week I forgot to eat dinner. Plain forgot. The following morning I was ravenous and realized I hadn't eaten in 20 hours. Don't worry though, I polished off the pumpkin pie yesterday and there's still the pecan pie and the ice cream log in the freezer to get through. A little insulating fat would be welcome about now as it has turned much colder.

Today we 86 the christmas tree and decorations. Ditto for the christmas music and left over sweet potatoes. We've eaten turkey at every meal since the 24th, and turned the remaining carcass into soup. Frankly, I'm sick of it now. (Still, it's amazing how many meals you can get out of a $20 bird.)

Toilet talk

When we first moved into this place, we were quite taken by the amenities that came with - fancy appliances, central vacuum, and the "silent toilet" as Serge put it. And it's true, when you flush this toilet, it makes no sound since the water from the tank enters the bowl from below the water line. Now I would never notice something like a "silent toilet", much as I don't notice a dirty toilet, but spouse, the one with taste, notices all these things.

However, there is something I've noticed that I don't like about this toilet. It doesn't evacuate all the turds. Now correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't that the purpose of the toilet? Evacuating the turds? This toilet is good at evacuating the bulk of the turdage, but always seems to leave a morsel behind. This tends to be embarrassing when you have visitors. (Particularly those who choose to do number two.) Now personally, I avoid defecating if at all possible in any toilet other than my home's. Still there are times one must do the deed when away from home. For me, clothes shopping works better than coffee at nudging the fudge. Maybe some people experience this "nudging" while visiting others. Our friends seem to, lol.

So then last night, I was telling spouse about my dissatisfatction with the turd evacuation device in the bathroom. And you know what? He said that I was mistaken, that there is a little chipped porcelain at the bottom which has become stained and thus gives the illusion of remaining turdage. In actuality, all the turds are indeed evacuated. He said we needed to change the toilet because of the chip. And this is where he made the big mistake. You see, if he had let me go with the illusion, we would be getting a new toilet. But for chipped porcelain? No way. He's still got a thing or two to learn about me.

Visual holiday recap

Everything was splendid

Here's a look around before the in-laws arrived.




The money shot of the night. God we were stuffed. We finished off the night with word games and Uno.

Today we spent a fabulous Christmas day outside. Then I came home and edited together this video.

Time's up!

I hope you're ready! I'm cookin' a turkey today for the in-laws. And stuffing, and pecan crusted sweet potatoes, and green bean casserole. Of course we have to clean the house too, but I'll leave spouse to that - I seem to be dirt-blind.

We went up yesterday to check on the cat. No water again. At least nude dancer left the ripped open sack of cat food on the floor for the poor thing. And the stench! Cleaned up the cat box (again) too. There was a long letter on his door from his ex. She was worried about him, knew things weren't going well and "please don't disappear like last time" and "please let me know your new address for real, not like the fake phone number you gave me". Also, she had received the divorce papers and she needed to talk to him. This put a human face on his situation (whatever it is) and I actually felt some pity for the guy. Still, we have a plan of action.

Next time we see him (we are changing the entrance code to the building to force him to ring our bell) we are going to give him three choices. Well one choice really, it's just the manner of proceeding. We are going to tell him that we want him out, and that we will get him out. 1. File a request for eviction with the rental board, as we have enough evidence now to support the request.(they are closed until Wednesday.) 2. We change the lock and empty his apartment. It will be up to him to sue us in civil court for wrongful eviction (once he's out, the rental board has no jurisdiction.)We also have a strong case to defend ourselves there. 3. You sign this paper cancelling the lease and you get out by the end of January. Don't pay us a thing, just sign the paper and get out.

I feel pretty strongly that he will jump at the chance for number three. But we'll have to see his reaction. This is my first goal of 2007 - get nude dancer out!

But I feel sad too, this is probably his worst Christmas ever.

I hope you and yours have a splendid holiday!

Spouse endures Christmassy pestering

Really, he was singing the song just moments before I picked up the camera.

Also, the French words spoken:

T'es fatiguant calisse! = You are annoying, chalice!

T'es con. = You are a fool.

Toi, t'es con. = It is you who is the fool.

Snippets

* This is the shot that made the Christmas card.

* Watched "the Devil Wears Prada" last night. It doesn't matter what Meryl Streep does, she is perfect in every role.

*I learned this week that Kimodo dragons can procreate without copulation. Actually, several lizard species can do this. It is not a miracle.

* I've been cracking myself up all week saying, "The ferret ate my baby's toes."

* The phone number nude dancer gave me was indeed a phony.

* When you watch the sunset, you're watching the past. Actually the sun has already set because the light from the sun takes several minutes to reach us.

* This was the creepy clothing store I passed while shopping yesterday.

* To avoid ground knuckle, don't push with the cheese, simply pull lightly with the grater.

* Favorite blog line this week: "You're short. Own it." (From Farmboyz)

Development of a phobia

My last massage took place on a cruise ship. For the bargain price of $120, you could have a "rejuvenating" massage and hot oil treatment. The little brochure promised things like relaxation and "enlivening one's senses". It failed to mention that the sense they'd be enlivening was pain. The spa visit was the one big splurge we did on that trip, and this is how it went down.

I arrived at my appointment and was shown into a room with lots of little oils and lights and soft music playing. I was told to get undressed and put on the towel and get onto the table.

"Helga will be right with you."

Helga? For some reason I thought the masseuse would be a male. And further that males would do males and females would do females. I was there waiting, hoping Helga was some swarthy Greek male name. And then she came in.

"Hello Richard how are you today?"

"Fine thanks," I said as I was trying to place her accent. Not quite German, perhaps some stern former Eastern Bloc country like Sadistivakia.

"I vant you to try and relax Richard, and remember a little bit of discomfort iss normal."

I immediately reacted by thinking oh no, she is going to hurt me, and now she is telling me not to be a baby. Of course then I couldn't be a baby, and didn't feel confident enough to tell her the truth: I just wanted to relax and feel all tingly and stuff. (Dirk's story reminded me of Helga)

She started by digging her dagger fingers and knuckles into the flesh of my shoulders, "Oh my, but vee have a lot of tension here."

There were two voices in my head at this time. The first just wanting to say "ouch" and "stop" but instead sufficed for a tear, unseen, trickling from my eyes. The other enraged, bellowed, "Of course there's fucking tension, you are bruising every inch of my flesh."

This went on and on to each part of the body, " I never see someone vith so much tension in their muscles, you are going to hurt for a few days, but that is good because all the toxins are coming out".

Detoxifying? Had I missed that part in the brochure? Who said anything about detoxifying?! So Helga is here to squeeze every last toxin out of my body while I'm on a cruise ship being a perfect lush?!?!

Afterward, I got the added joy of her attempt to peddle lotions to me. Bwahahaha. I don't do lotions Helga.

Anyway, it scarred me. No more massages for me. Ever. (I might make an exception for Em, but only if she gets on a plane.)

This n that

I gave my last classes of the year yesterday. Normally, I would fully rejoice at the upcoming two and a half weeks of off time, but I'm afraid of the tendency to fester about things when I have too much time on my hands. Especially when there are things to fester about. I'm working on keeping everything in perspective, it's only money after all, and I know that we will get through this and come out the other side with a learning experience worthy of any lost money. In the meantime, it's peanut butter and jelly for lunch, soup and baguette for dinner. Thankfully, I like those meals.

I spoke with beloved relatives yesterday, a conversation spirited by martinis on both ends of the line. I laughed a good deal. In the end, I was told to quit whining and to look at the whole learning experience angle of this. I pointed out that I didn't like what I was learning, to whit, you can't trust anybody. It's hard to love and distrust at the same time. I know there must be a way, but it seems like you have to kill a part of yourself off to do it. (Quit your whining!, lol)

Spouse and I decided that we are not going to give each other gifts this year, but we are going to go to a spa next week, him for a massage, me for a pedicure. After all, things don't matter, experiences do.

Damn, the saga continues

Boy, the SPCA doesn't mess around. Within two hours of me emailing them, someone was here for an inspection. They will be taking the cat if nude dancer doesn't show up by Friday. Since we are taking care of it for now, they don't need to "rescue" it. The poor thing cries all the time so I brought her down to meet Sara. They carefully inspected each other and no blood was shed. I think it went quite well. Mostly the cat just wanted petting. I would take the cat as a pet but spouse has been talking about a year free of animals for quite a while now, and I figure I should honor that. Sara is on her last legs anyway. Sniff.

We gave all our renters gift certificates to the market. We know of no other landlords who do this. I call it a goodwill expense that will pay itself off in friendly interactions with our tenants. I couldn't bring myself to include nude dancer though, even though I wish I were a big enough person to do something like that. But I can't get past the fact that the fucker owes us $725 and abandonned a cat.

Get this. Just now as I write this (4:30pm yesterday) a truck pulls into the yard and starts unloading a couch. Where could this be going? I go open my door and there is nude dancer in the stairwell. He comes into my apartment (at my insistence) and tells me he's been at the hospital for a week for serious depression, he broke up with his girlfriend a year ago and he should have his pay Thursday (the 21st, the end of the grace period according to the rental board) and he saw the notice from the SPCA and he would be cleaning up his apartment, and blah blah fucking horseshit. I gave him the cat food and litter that I bought and told him it was 10 bucks. I also told him that he should have called us about the cat, and he responded in the fake contriteness of an adolescent, "I know." (head bowed in "shame")

Then he said he had a new cellphone and left without giving me the number. I went up to his apartment and asked him for it in front of his moving friends. If you can't pay rent and you're laid up in the hospital, how do you get a new cellphone? (what I should have asked) It's probably a fake number anyway, him and his "rotted teeth" buddies howled when I left with the number. Then they left and nude dancer has not returned as of this morning. He was here maybe ten minutes in all. I guess we're the Man and they're sticking it to us. Sigh.

Googly and stuff

The blog searches leading to by blog are interesting. While "how to make perfect french fries" is still the number one search leading here, "window peeping" is a close second now. I'm number four if you google the song "let it snow" and I saw a new one yesterday, "blocking my peehole". It made me wonder if the person's peehole is obstructed or if the person would like to obstruct it. I get all sorts of "sticky" references too. It all seems so random, I got a hit from a search for "hemmroidectomy" (sic). I'm pretty sure I never wrote that, perhaps it was a commenter.

But then I thought about how random my own searches are. In the past week, I have googled "hip displaysia dog", "Aspirin dosage animal", "Exquisicorpse", "Telescopic horse penis"(don't ask), "Pigs dogs smarter", "SPCA", "Self realization fellowship", "Kundulini energy", "Weight of an olympic bar", "Teach English Inuit", "Supralapsarianism", and "Everyone says I love you music". Yesterday, while playing Scrabble, I was incensed because someone used the word purslane. I had never seen that word before (cheater cheater!), so of course, it had to be googled. Turns out it is a fairly common edible plant. There are even recipes for it. (The person probably wasn't a cheater.)

Often times I'll find someone's blog via a search. I end up getting a story about how the phrase I entered in the google box had reference in their lives. Many times, it's a perspective quite different from my own. Many times, it is the same. I love that in all this randomness, there is also a kind of connectivity, the chaotic path of each life careening and crashing together in the ether. It's like a shadow of our connectedness.

Tagged by LBB

"Each player of this game starts with the '6 weird things about you'. People who get tagged need to write a blog of their own 6 weird things as well as state this rule clearly. In the end, you need to choose 6 people to be tagged and list their names. Don’t forget to leave a comment that says “you are tagged” in their comments and tell them to read your blog."

1. Each night before going to sleep, I listen to the weather radio. This is a special weather band radio you can get at Radio Shack. Government issued weather forecasts and conditions are broadcast on three frequencies. I've been doing that for over 30 years and it might possibly be my oldest habit. Sometimes I fall asleep with it on and spouse has a phobia that the telescopic antenna is going to poke his eye out one of these days.

2. I hate putting anything on my skin. All my friends know this. Dry skin? Get that lotion away from me. And I use nothing but barsoap for body and face. In fact, my entire skin care regiment consists of Lever 2000.

3. When I am walking, I have dialogue in my head with the trees. "Well, you are looking mighty fine this morning. What's that? Oh thank you. I bet most people just walk right by you and don't notice your majesty and your steadfastness, rooted there for decades." And then sometimes I pet them.

4. Most days I drink coffee and water and a couple glasses of wine at the end of the day. Occasionally, I treat myself to a diet coke. Then I refill the diet coke bottle with water a hundred times.

5. (I am going to copy what LBB wrote. It was perfectly stated. Maybe it's not so weird after all...) I stopped maturing at 12. Other than taking an interest in the opposite (ahem, same) sex, I haven't changed since childhood. As a teen and then as a young adult, I assumed one day the aging process would instill a decent work ethic and a sense of responsibility. I figured a codified adult mentality would “kick-in” at some point. I'm in my mid-30s (I'm 41!) and I'm still waiting. My biggest priorities are still: sleeping in, dodging work and responsibility, watching TV, surfing the Net, scoring good meals and dessert, playing games, working out, hanging out, wasting time and doing as little as possible. No joke, people. Honest Indian. Mind you, I don't just long to do these things. I actually DO them. I've worked part-time most of my adult life, including my present job. I still watch cartoons. I still eat candy. I still play with toys. I still contemplate what I want to be when I grow older. Between leisure time and a chance to earn more money, I'll take leisure every damn time. I've tried, but I can't give a damn about adult stuff. Who gives a shit about careers, productivity, mortgages and retirement funds, really? Fuck that shit.

6. The evidence for number five can be found in my years long fixation on Scrabble. I have played over 4000 games online, and at half an hour a pop, well, you do the math. I am not proud of this, but it is free and noodles my mind. Also, every morning I play this game.

So now I am supposed to tag six people. I don't really like tagging people. If you would like to participate, you can consider yourself tagged.

Human sewage

Well, we have finished rekeying the whole building, including nude dancer's apartment. The locksmith came yesterday so we were able to enter. I am sad to announce that the cat did not have food nor water. Even the toilet was closed. The cat was starving for attention too. We set her up with dogfood and water, today I'll go get some catfood and litter since the box is all shit and no litter. There is garbage everywhere. But nude dancer is missing in action, I only saw him around for an hour last Saturday morning. Even the old owner, pornstar, has left a note on his door demanding that he get in touch with him. We can go to the rental board on Friday. We have the key to his apartment now, so we will not let the cat die. (I want to just take her, but Spouse said no) We took pictures and a video.



I can get over the lazy messiness, but the animal cruelty is reprehensible.

Holiday snippets

* Here's another shot that didn't make the Christmas card.

* Mom always fills the adults' stockings with practical things. Aspirin, batteries, dental floss and the like. I love this.

* I avoid teaching the word "wreath". The French say it "Reet" and the Japanese "Leath". Both of these pronunciations cause me to laugh thus undermining student confidence. Best not to go there.

* Spouse is tiring of my constant playing of the Charlie Brown Christmas CD. I've played it dozens of times, as I do every year.

* I have never seen a "flocked" tree for sale up here. Maybe because the real thing is outside. Is it just a California thing?

* I asked my muslim student if he celebrated something at this time of year. He explained that he was going to sacrifice a lamb. He will go out to a farm, slit the animal's throat himself, then the farmer will skin and gut it, and he will take it home and divvy it up to family and charity. Call me crazy, but a tree and presents sound more festive.

* All the snow has melted here and none is forecast before Noel. It'll be my first non-white Christmas in 7 years.


* Despite the lack of snow, this seemed Christmassy. They had bells and they were jingling.

Something light and cheery

Spouse came home the other day raving about the new underwear he bought. He modeled them for me and I said, "Not bad, how much were they?" He said they were originally $50, but got them for $20 at the warehouse sale. I laughed, "For underwear!? That's against my religion." He talked about how they felt so good and snug and then he said, "Here, you try them on."


Happy HNT!

This 'n that

Last night, spouse and I had THE talk about the dog. Spouse wants to prevent any suffering, while I want to wait until she can't shit on her own anymore. This time seems near. But near and now are two different things. I'll keep you posted. (whether you like it or not)

I'm off today. The semester is coming to a close and though I have scads of paperwork to do, it can be done in my robe. Also, I'm calling the locksmith to schedule the lock change of nude dancer's apt. on Friday. He'll have to contact us to get the new key. (And I'll be able to check on his cat.) This whole story is getting boring and repetetive, I know, but that's how life is - up and down, in and out, exciting and boring.

Yesterday I passed by a restaurant called "Derriere les Fagots". I swear. They even have a website. I'd be a little wary of the brown sauce, ba dum dum chh.

Rainy days and Mondays

Sometimes being depressed has a sweetness to it, nudging one into reverie and if you really let go into, you can cry the cry of a thousand people. Who knows why some days you wake up knowing it's going to be a fabulous day and others just the opposite. Sometimes it's circumstances, what's happening in your life, but other times it must be hormonal or depending on your hippie quotient, chakras or some such thing. The flu would certainly do it too. But there is also a different kind of depression (maybe it's melancholy?), a cloak of blue that descends upon a person, and if the person opens up, lets go, accepts the sadness, then the merest smile, or the slightest expression of kindness will send a person into tears. (I'd like to report a run-on sentence) There seems to be a common well from which all emotions stem and once you really get down in there, they tend to all come out at once.

Have you ever seen someone laugh and cry at the same time? I mean cry crying, not because you're laughing crying. It's a trip to see that, lemme tell you. I have not done it myself. I have cried and been angry at the same time though.

Yesterday was a blue day. The dog was sick and threw up white. White is not the correct color of vomit, I'm fairly sure. Of course nude dancer (toujours absent) is on my mind, and I had some enraged paranoid fantasy that he poisoned our dog. My cheeks turned red even. And then I caught myself and began to laugh at how ridiculous my mind works and then started to cry a little. (Not at the same time, please note.) And I thought about Jill, how her day must be, and I cried a little more. It felt good to be sad in that way.

Sometimes it feels good to just feel.

Laughing and crying

A couple of weeks ago, one of my students, we'll call her Jill, had to leave class early for a doctor's appointment.

"It's nothing serious I hope," I asked.

"Oh no, it's a regular check up for my chest," she answered (while indicating to her breasts)

"You mean your annual breast exam?"

"Well, my mother died of breast cancer as did my aunt, so I go more often. I have a kind of cyst that they are monitoring. It's just a cyst though," she happily announced.

"How old was your mother when she died?"

"40"

"Wow, that's terrible, I'm so sorry. Have you ever thought about getting a breast reduction?"

Gasps and bewilderment all around the class. Okay, maybe it's not the most tenderly put question, but in my defense, this girl has veritable melons.

"Well, I mean you could get rid of the cyst, and you know, women of your size often get back problems."

Sometimes I don't know how to talk to women. One time I told my friend I thought her thighs had gotten bigger. Big mistake. Anyway. I was just thinking "clinically" as it were about a 30 year old required to get breast exams every three months. Why not just nip it in the bud?

"My breasts are not that big! You're the third person who has suggested that to me." I had obviously touched on a sensitive spot.

"Okay, they're not freakishly big, but you've got to admit they're not small!" and we all laughed to diffuse the tension.

Last week, Jill was not in class. Turns out the cyst was not benign at all, it was a very rare form of cancer. So rare that she will have 9 doctors following her case to learn about it. She starts chemo today. And that's where my heart will be.

I did it to myself

Yesterday sucked. We worked ourselves up into a froth over nude dancer and were gearing ourselves up for confrontation. Somehow, he slithered out without our noticing. I saw him come in after he went for breakfast, but never saw him leave. (Incidentally, when he came in, he didn't see me spying through the blinds. He must have removed his shoes and tiptoed up the stairs because he made almost no noise. Like a child hiding from angry parents.) At 5pm, we went up to knock on his door, and he was gone (or hiding and not answering). The cat, however, meowed, so it's okay. Speaking of the cat, I can't go accusing people of animal cruelty without proof. It's perfectly possible that he has a friend coming over to feed it, or stopping by himself while we are out at work. All we know is that he is not sleeping there, and that we see him very rarely these days.

He does have 8 giant sacks of garbage on his balcony. He has not taken his trash down to the street since we moved in, the pile just keeps getting bigger. Charming fellow.

But I hate that once again I let this situation ruin my mood for a whole day. He's just being passive aggressive by not responding to our letter or letting us know when he intends to pay his rent. Fine. Want to use the apartment for your tricks? Fine. Want to sneak around? Fine. I have no control over these things. It's one thing to know it, and another to not let it get to you. Yesterday, I failed, and I really let it get to me. In the end, it was only I who suffered. And it really sucked.

Mini update

Nude dancer just came home after a 10 day absence. We left a note on his door asking for the rent of course, but also to borrow his keys to make a copy since we don't have one. I wonder if the cat is dead. 10 days is a long time and it stopped meowing on Tuesday. He's certainly making a lot of noise up there right now, there must be quite a cleanup to do.

Some of you have suggested that we take the rent in trade, ie services from nude dancer. Let me tell you, I wouldn't want to touch him with a 10 foot pole. The depth of my disgust for him precludes any possible attraction. He tries though. He will answer his door in his undies, his lithe body seductively posed in the doorway. And I just think, "Loser!" Losers are not attractive. Nuff said.

And if he left his cat to die of starvation, that will be the ultimate proof of his vileness.

*Update: He just left with a trick! That explains all the noise. Went to the restaurant for breakfast. Maybe he'll come back and pay then. Yes ladies and gentlemen, we live in a brothel, lol.

Snippets n pics

* I have lost my scarf that I made. Over 30 hours of labor left on a bus somewhere. Sadness.

*Disco Santa

* One of my students is flying to the Arctic to collect a sample. Of water. From the tap of a federal building. Apparently, it must be brought back to the lab for analysis within 24 hours, and mailing could hazard it to be tampered with. Must be a human with the sample of tap water at all times. The cost? Five grand. Our tax dollars at work.

* One of my other students who is quite fervently muslim (yes, I know I'm supposed to capitalize it, but please don't kill me) bowed his head and prayed during each romantic scene in the film Hannah and Her Sisters. Apparently, it was evil for him to witness a man and woman kissing in a fictitious setting. And I specifically chose the film for its lack of female nudity. Sheesh.


* Early December at the Old Port of Montreal (taken yesterday)

* Did you know that airlines do not only discriminate against overweight people when hiring, but also tall people? I was rejected by United way back when for my freak of nature height of 6'3.

* Think you're double jointed? Think again.

* Do I care who's penis is currently entering Jennifer Anniston's vagina? No. Why is this information constantly in the news?

* I haven't ever been the best at anything. True story. (Except I guess at being me.)


* I thought this shirt was funny. However, I would scoff at anyone wearing it.

* Eggnog is called "Chicken milk" or "Hen's milk" in French. Ewww.

Off the cuff

There's nothing going on here. Work, work, work, rush, rush, rush. I got quite a lot done yesterday, little of which is blogworthy. We're coming up on the end of the session, so there are finals to grade and evaluations to pump out. Instead of thinking about all I have to do before the holidays (causing as it does anxiety and panic), I'm trying to just look at today, now. and "forgetting" what has to get done in the next two weeks. This is a strategy I'm not used to employing, but it seems to be working. Today is manageable. The rest of my life will come as it comes.

It's working so well that I forgot to think about what I would blog about today. oops. Well there you have it, off the cuff blogging at five am.

I'm putting snippets on my list for things to do today. See you tomorrow.

Inflated sense of self

I remember back in high school learning about the phrases, "might makes right" and "power corrupts." I grasped fairly easily the first one, I mean the history books are written by the winners. The second one I always felt skeptical about. And even as we saw some examples of this, I thought surely there are people who, once they found themselves in power, did not succomb to the temptation for corruption. And in my mind, I decided that power only corrupts if you let it. And when I have been in positions of power, either as manager or landlord, I have remained true to my inner belief that every one is just trying to do their best with what they have. And that everyone deserves a minimum of respect. Maybe that makes me stupid.

Now, as I look at all my students and classes I've given over the past five years, I see that power does indeed change people. In fact, the higher the position the person holds, the less likely they are to come to class, do homework and learn from the process. Maybe it's because they have built in respect (being the boss and all) at work and coming to class means giving over the reins of power to me, if only for a couple hours. When you learn a new language, you have to be willing to subject yourself to a certain degree of humiliation, since your worth is measured more by your ability to digest and use new information than it is by your title. Department heads are the worst, and they often show frustration when I point out their errors. (I point them out so they can learn from them!) Usually after two or three classes, they stop coming, refusing to better themselves. (Hey, they're already power brokers, they don't need no stinking pipsqueak teachers.) Give me a class of underlings any day.

So now, sadly, I have to agree, that power does seem to corrupt. It corrupts ones personality.

Blather

I have nothing to report. In fact, I am completely qualmless this morning. It's movie day again today in two of my classes. They didn't have Swimming with Sharks as I had planned to show, so I got my favorite - Hannah and her Sisters. Did I mention that I showed Somewhere in Time last week? I was rather bored to tell you the truth. I don't think movies unfold that slowly anymore in North America. And the watch always bugged me. Where did the watch come from if he got it from her and she got it from him? Bugs me.

Warning, nonsequiteur ahead. (Sorry, that was a geekburp. As was that, I'm afraid.)

I've been wondering about pedicures. I wonder if they're like massages - they sound oh so nice and relaxing but then you spend the whole time trying to prove that it doesn't hurt. The only good massage is from your lover. So I'm wondering if the idea of a pedicure (oh it'll be so tickly and wonderful!) is really not the reality, and that I'll go in and they'll rip flesh from my toes or something. Enlighten me please before I spend money for pain.

Let it snow

The first real snow of the season occurred yesterday. And we got more than they forecast which is a bonus. It was the perfect weather for holiday decorating. I sang "my favorite things" as I walked to the other place to pick up rent checks. Snowflakes were, after all, sticking to my nose and eyelashes. And the whole world is muffled when it's snowing. Even the cars passing on the street are quiet mumbles. It was rather magical. ( Come February, it'll be evil, but for now....)

I can't seem to get an unblurry shot of the tree. Must be something about the shiny ornaments messing up the autofocus mechanism. I even tried the tripod. Sure you can use the manual focus controls on the camera, but that would require the effort of finding and reading the novel sized guide with instructions. We bought the tree already bound up with wire, so it was a crap shoot as to whether it would look good when we got it home and "opened" it up. As it turned out, I couldn't have asked for more in the symmetry/straight department. And there's no big holes either. Just perfect.

After decorating, I had a chat with Rebekah via Skype. The conversation turned humorous when Serge started butting in so I picked up the camera and taped it. It was quite a long video, so I've only uploaded the first two minutes.



She goes on to show us the garments she plans to send us for Christmas, all of which, Serge approves of. And we laugh, laugh, laugh.

Getting into the season some more

I'm up before dawn. I didn't plan it this way, but I'm kinda excited about getting the Christmas tree today and kinda depressed about the dog. I got to thinking about those things when spouse came to bed at 4 and didn't really get back to sleep. I'm pretty sure this will be the last Christmas with our dog, as it seems her genetic timer has been switched to "time to die". She's over 12 years old now, and her legs are giving out and she's getting lumps all over her body. These things don't seem to bother her much, maybe because she doesn't have enough "sense" to catastrophize them in her conciousness. That must be my job.

It's turned cold here and snow is on the menu today. These are ideal conditions for getting a Christmas tree. Then it's jazzy tunes while decorating, perhaps enhanced with a festive eggnog or two. But before all that, I'll be finishing up the Christmas cards giddily awaiting spouse to wake up.

I'll also be pondering the wisdom of purchasing candy cane ice cream. You see, when I spotted it in the market yesterday, I stood before the freezer door for a good 30 seconds debating it. "It's only available for a short time!" "Your stomach isn't going to like it." "But look it's candy canes and chunks of chocolate!" "You know you wake up with a stomach ache if you eat ice cream." "But it's on sale!"

My tummy hurts this morning, but god it was good.

Snippets n photos

* Interspersed with other snippets are some shots from my 45 minute walk during my break yesterday.


* I believe I have hurryitis. I've had it since I was a boy, wolfing down my food. "Taste your food!" my mother would shriek say at every meal.



* Remember giggling at the word "masticate"?


* In Quebec the equivalent for the derogatory American English term "faggot" is "tapette", which literally means "flyswatter". Makes about as much sense as a bundle of sticks.


* Shouldn't exterior holiday lights be banned? I mean all we hear the rest of the year is about the importance of energy conservation.


* A friend of mind once told me that when your "gaydar" goes off, to be careful, as there is always a second possibility - German tourists.


* Always note wind direction and intensity before peeing outdoors.