This n that

I just showered, shat, shaved and dressed in 12 minutes. It would have been shorter had the shat been in one swoop, but no, there were a couple curtain calls.

Nude dancer showed up yesterday and paid the rest of the rent for November. So I can relax now until the next rent due day, which is tomorrow. Actually, I'm learning more and more about how to relax, about how to see that my thoughts and emotions are not "me", they are just processes happening within me like waves on an ocean. I'm learning to sit back and watch them rise and fall, crest and wane.

I'm learning how to see them, acknowledge them, and let them go. I must say, this book that Peter started me on is changing my life. I'm sleeping again, for one thing.

Speaking of Peter, go on over and wish him a fab birthday. He's trying to make it a "dry" one, so he would appreciate some encouragement. Go Peter, go!

Deadbeat tenant update

No, nude dancer still has not finished paying his November rent. I went to the Rental Board to get some information Friday and was told I could submit a demand for eviction since he is over 3 weeks late. Once the demand is submitted, it is 4 weeks before a hearing is scheduled. If nude dancer pays before the hearing, the claim is "dead". So I decided to wait to see if he finishes paying for November and if he doesn't, to submit a demand after December first so that I can claim December's rent as well. We put a "last chance" note on his door Sunday, but he has not come home since last Thursday.

We decided to go into his apartment yesterday and discovered that the key we have doesn't work. I actually laughed when the key we were given at the close of escrow wouldn't even go into the lock. I figure since Pornstar (previous building owner) is good friends with nude dancer, they planned it this way. We'll be calling a locksmith today to have his door re-keyed. I figure that the whole eviction process (assuming he doesn't pay anything before he's evicted) will cost me two grand. I'm starting to think this is a bargain.

In a way, I really hope he doesn't finish paying for November so I can get this whole thing started. I also see that I've gone through the five stages of grieving. Even though no one died.
Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance. I like hanging out here in the last stage.

You can see it now, or wait til you're dead

If beauty is in the eye of the beholder, why do we go to so much trouble to beautify ourselves instead of expanding our beholding mechanism? Unless you're winking at your bad self every day in the mirror ( a al Fonzie), it's like rehearsing for a show whose script hasn't been developed.

For example, haven't you found moments of beauty in an old person's face? I certainly have - the beauty of wisdom and experience is written there in the hyroglyphs of wrinkled flesh. And an old person's eyes twinkle even more brightly than a child's.

I had a chance to watch American Beauty again the other night. That movie is like medicine, for eveything I've beheld since then has been beautiful. The final line in the movie delivered by the "dead" protagonist is worth repeating. "Every single moment of your stupid, boring life is so full of beauty, the heart can scarcely contain it. But don't worry if you can't see that now, because one day, you will."

Getting into the season

My project yesterday was to prepare the picture that we are going to send out in our cards this year for the holidays. I bought some hats and a pointsettia. I dug out the holiday decorations (we haven't decorated for three years because we were so cramped in our last place, there wasn't even room for a tree) and set up the camera. Here is one of the shots that didn't make the cut.
Afterwards, we sat down to dinner in front of 60 minutes. The line that caught me last night was from Andy Rooney: We all have to behave better than what naturally comes to us.

A half an hour later, Homer Simpson whined to Marge about her hostility: Is it because I have enormous flaws that I refuse to work on?

Hmm, two vastly different programs touching on the same theme.

Chores

It's another crazy weekend around here. Sorry I didn't post yesterday, I was too caught up in "what I had to get done". I'm moving into the final stretch of my contracts, so I had to make exams yesterday. Plus the usual housework drudgery.

We used to have a maid that came by every couple weeks to clean. This was when we lived in Long Beach in the 90's. I must admit, it was wonderful. Actually, the impetus for hiring her was to diminish the frequency of marital squabbles over chores. It worked great. I don't know if it's because of the whole "voluntary simplicity" lifestyle we chose when coming here, or if we've matured, but now we're actually fighting over who "gets" to do a chore.

Yes, the words "it's my turn to vacuum, you got to do it last time" really came out of spouse's mouth yesterday. So I went out and raked up all the dead leaves and enjoyed the fresh air. First I went out to pick up the dog poo (I love to pick it up when it's cold out, like picking up stones - so easy!) but spouse had already beat me to it. Here, let me go dig out an old pic of Serge scooping up hot dog rockets.


Peace out!

Snippets

* Illegal immigrants are often referred to as "wetbacks" in the U.S. When Serge was there, people jokingly (or not so jokingly) called him an "iceback".

* I've come to the realization that I have a horrible habit. I keep wasting my "nows" dreading the future.

* Oopsie, I accidentally shut off nude dancer's hot water. (He probably won't notice though, he seems to be staying elsewhere.)

* It is still a mystery why mass extinctions (over 95% of all life on the planet) occur regularly on the planet. What is known is that similar climatic trends occurred before each extinction. Eerily, our current climate trend is the same.

* For me, the weather and sky are magic. I don't understand how people can ignore the constant amazing movie playing out over our heads.

* Conversely, I don't understand people's fixation on the private lives of celebrities. Blogger's lives are far more interesting. (and real)

* A student asked me what an ox was. Since I've never encountered one, I had to guess. I said it was like a cow-slash-horse and we make their tails into soup.

* The Japanese proverb for the English expression, "Nobody's perfect," is "Even monkeys fall out of trees."

* I don't miss black Friday in the states. I imagine that as I type, crowds are congregating before every Walmart in the country.

This and that

We watched Sixteen Candles in class yesterday. I chose this because it is relatively easy to follow even if you don't catch everything that is said. And there are plenty of visual jokes too. Still, I had to explain some of the idiomatic expressions used in the film. (There's no explaining those 80's hairstyles, but that's another post.)

Don't have a cow. (remember that one?) = Do not express such a negative reaction

She got her monthly bill = She's bleeding like a stuck pig

Geek = unpopular kid

Faggot = politically incorrect epithet (lol)

Did you know there's a baby faced John Cusack in the film? He plays one of Anthony Michael Hall's cohorts. It's funny how he was just a bit player in the film, but he's the one who went on to the greatest success. Whatever happened to Molly Ringwald and Hall?

Happy Thanksgiving to all my peeps south of the border. Eat some turkey for me. I'm off to a full day, regular Thursday as it is up here.

Window peeping

I'm turning into the old lady who peers through the blinds. We've got two apartments above us and two others below us. We are careful not to make too much noise (hardwood floors) in the early morning so as not to disturb the below tenants. The upstairs tenants don't seem to have this, er, sensitivity. And I keep seeing strangers come in and out of the building. They all know the code to the entry so they must be "people" of the tenants. I peer out of the blinds to try to emblazon their faces upon my memory. And then I listen to hear which apartment they go into.

I'm whacko. The nude dancer upstairs still hasn't paid his rent for this month (just repeat last month's performance, sans my hysterical reaction and angst to it) and so I pay particular attention to his apartment. He was gone for 6 days and he has a cat. The cat would cry out when he heard any of the doors in the building open/close and so I knew he was starving. I hoped he was at least able to drink from the toilet. I had decided that I would enter his apartment and feed his cat if he didn't show up by yesterday, but he did, and he had some lame and unintelligible excuse for not having the rent, "My boss moved his office so I still haven't gotten paid". He is a nude dancer working for lapdances ($20 for 3 minutes) in the gay village. So you can see how his excuse is really, REALLY lame. I told him that I really didn't care why, we have the right to ask for a resiliation of his lease since the 21 day marker had passed, and that he would be responsible for all related fees if we did. (This is all spelled out here.) He said he knew all that and would have it today. We shall see. He wheedled himself another day. I told him, "You have to give me something tomorrow or I'm going to the Rental Board." Then I went back into my apartment, heard his door open/close and peered through the blinds to see him run out and hail a taxi. I thought, "Sure, got money for a fucking TAXI when the metro is a five minute walk and two bucks away."

I really need to stop peering out the window, it's bad for my health.

Karmic demonstrations

20 years ago, after having my heart ripped out, stomped on and shredded, I had a brief fling with one of my university colleagues. Really brief, I mean I was on the rebound, and no one could really take away all that hurt except time. Anyway, Chris and I had a couple romps in the hay and then I lost interest. I didn't really consider us to be "together" so I didn't see any reason to "break up". I just stopped answering the phone. He left me a dozen or so messages, each one more aggravated and needy than the previous. This didn't endear him to me and so we never spoke again.

Until. Several years later, I was at an AA meeting and Chris spotted me and accosted me. He was clearly agitated even as I was having difficulty placing him. He told me that after our fling, he started a downward spiral into drugs and alcohol that led him to rock bottom and that it was only now that he was on the road to recovery. Without outright saying it, I could tell that he blamed me and my (in)actions.

Last year, when I went back to California and stopped in to see my buddies at the old place I used to work, a young hispanic man approached me and exclaimed, "Tornwordo!" and proceeded to embrace me as though we were long lost friends. I had no recollection whatsoever of this man though it was clear I had made some kind of impact on him. I feigned recognition and he asked me how Montreal was and then he said, " I'm so glad I have the chance to thank you. When you hired me, you told me something that I will never forget." This did not jog any of my memory, but I was certainly curious. "What?" I asked. "You told me that if you were going to believe in me and give me a chance at this job that I had to believe in myself too. You said you never wanted to hear me say, 'I can't'" He went on to tell me how he had moved up the ladder from busboy to server and then to manager. He was positively beaming with gratitude and confidence.

So. It does not matter if we are aware of our actions and words just as it does not matter if you are unaware of the law you just broke. Consequences occur despite your awareness or lack thereof.

Death without the mess

Today I say goodbye to a couple of Japanese kids that I've been tutoring for two years. I like goodbyes. They are like death without the mess. Not that I like death or anything, it's just that in death, it's more bitter than sweet. With goodbyes, you can wish one well and promise to keep in touch. I still receive letters from past students (Kuwait, Japan, Poland and Spain) who inform me of their lives after Montreal.

Goodbyes are like the final bow on an xmas gift. Goodbyes make room for new Hellos.

I cherish them.

A last birthday nod

We had a lovely time. We (Serge and I and Dan) went out for tapas last night and stuffed ourselves full of foie gras, ceviche, steak and tuna tartare, smoked crab and avocado salad and more.

This is our favorite style of eating - sharing a dozen appetizers. Since we have all worked in the food biz, we were constantly discussing the merits and the detriments of each item.

I thought it was genius to put hot candied cranberries on the foie gras. We didn't think about how the animal had to suffer to get its liver so big, we just enjoyed it.

Did you hear a rat?

Yesterday was fairly lackluster. Poor Serge had a hellish day at work and just wanted to come home and relax. I had been prepared mentally for an outing or even a pub crawl, but he called from work saying, "Have the martinis ready, I just want to stay home." The rule in this house is birthday boy wishes rule. So I had a frosty one ready when he arrived. Then he continued to work all evening. For his job. We're going out tonight to celebrate instead.

I'm still waking up a lot at night, but this book that Peter sent me has helped me find ways of coping, and learning things about myself that I didn't even know, er believe. Things about how my mind works. I'm looking forward to practicing the techniques described in the book.

Here Serge details how I woke up thinking I heard mice in the walls.



Happy weekend!

Spousal snippets

1. Serge is 40 today. That means he has spent a third of his entire life with me.

2. He can sleep anywhere, anytime. He can sleep the entire night in a chair.

3. He never follows recipes and therefore he never makes the same thing twice.

4. He equates price with quality.

5. Serge is a handyman kind of guy. He's not afraid to destroy a wall, take apart a radio, install an electrical outlet.

6. He is gruff with a soft center.

7. Sarcasm is his main form of defense.

8. He still turns me on after over 13 years.

9. He knows how to lean on me, and I him.

10. He is cleaner than I am. I am grateful for that.

11. When he received his first publisher's clearing house sweepstakes entry, he believed the million dollar check was real. It took hours to convince him otherwise. You could taste his crestfallenness.

12. He is an easy target for salesmen. He is forbidden to speak to telemarketers.

13. He is a beer drinker.

14. When he gains weight, it all goes to his belly. I like to rub the buddha belly.

15. If I want him to do something, all I have to do is start doing it myself. Then he will come over and inform me of how I'm doing it wrong and take over. Works every single time. (Why has it taken me so long to learn how to load the dishwasher? tee hee except now I'm busted)

16. If you give Serge a compliment, he will invariably respond, "I know".

17. He loves doing laundry. Apparently he dislikes folding the clothes or maybe I do that one thing "right".

18. When we first met, he would cry out, "Hostie que t'es beau." I wouldn't know that it meant, "Damn, you're beautiful," for another 7 years. Now, when I mention it, he flinches.

19. He can't grow facial hair, for there are patches of skin where hair refuses to grow.

20. He is still with me even after the "ball" incident.

21. He has the perfect hands.

22. He tolerates my flaws, of which I have many.

23. He will slug you and make you angry if you attempt to tickle his ribs, poke him in the ribs or even grab him there. Seriously. Don't do it.

24. He doesn't like sauce much. And refried beans? Forget it. Doesn't care for dressing, and I think he doesn't really like anything wet on his food. He adores soup though.

25. He eats his eggs sunny side up.

26. He works full time for a magazine doing layouts and managing their website.

27. He takes a nap every night after dinner when we stay in.

28. We make a good team for real estate purchasing, we would have never done this if we had been on our own.

29. Serge speaks English though he has had little formal training. He lived 7 years in California which forced him to learn.

30. He is a smoker, always planning to quit in the "near future". Rarely does it arrive. (But I love you honey.)

31. Beer and discretion don't always add up with Serge.

32. He loves it if I do something unexpected in the cleaning department. Like changing the bed sheets.

33. He likes to be romanced.

34. He sleeps on the right side of the bed.

35. At night, he sometimes gets the jimmy legs or scrapes his toes along the edge of the bed. It's kind of cute. Sometimes.

36. He knows computers so I don't have to so much.

37. He married me.

38. He does a mean chicken dance.

39. Our pet name for each other is Bébé and we often say "Tu pus!" (you stink) to each other.

40. He completes me. (Okay, that was a little barfy.)

The stickly nature of truth

Here's why "knowing" is the same as "believing". Disclaimer: this is my opinion.

First, let's take a look at history where we can find innumerable instances of "fact" being false. From the flatness of the earth to the movement of the heavens, more scientific facts have been disproven than have been proven.

Second, we need only analyze some obvious facts that everyone "knows". Let's start with "The sun rises in the east." Sounds simple enough, it's something we can observe every day. But in reality, the sun does not rise. The earth, as it spins on its axis (of which there is none, only the concept of) simply moves from shadow to light. Semantics? Perhaps. But how about "Water freezes at 0 degrees?" Any American knows this to be false. Because it's all relative to how you measure temperature. And what is temperature? The measure of molecule movement or vibration. And what is freezing? Changing from liquid to solid form. Still, we don't talk about the metal car door being frozen, even though technically we could melt it. And do we KNOW that temperature is the measure of the vibration of atoms and molecules? No, we have simply applied the label to something we can feel but we cannot directly observe. Is it possible that temperature is something else? That gravity is not what we think?

Then again maybe it's the limitations of language placed on the limitless possibilities of the mind that cause these contradicitons. Nevertheless, most "facts" that you "know" to be true today may one day be regarded as fiction. After all it's all relative. Perception is reality bladibladibla.

Anyway, that's just a quick explanation why knowing and believing are essentially the same. The only thing I really know is that I am here now, and that "now" is an ever changing thing. Or at least that's what I believe.

Testing the waters

Here I am. I thought I would be so relieved to take a break from the blog, but instead I keep wondering about everybody and getting drawn into their blogs. I thought I would watch more TV, do more knitting, more sitting and being still, but no, I still spend the bulk of my free time in front of the computer.

And it has been raining since Saturday without stopping.

Spouse turns 40 Friday and I've already bought and given him his gift. (a leather jacket) I keep telling him that life begins at 40 to which he snorts in reply.

Tomorrow I'll be back to my usual predawn posting. I feel like I took a day off work and then worried about all the work that was piling up while I was gone. Not so relaxing after all, lol.

500th post

This is the milestone I've been waiting for. It means I can take a little bloggie break. Don't worry, I won't be gone long, just a few days to recoup, reenergize and rebalance.

Love to all.

This and that

I don't want to switch to the "new" blogger. They (whoever is in charge of this apparatus) are getting more insistent that I switch. The only change is that I will have to sign in with my Google account. Ah. The proverbial fly. You see, I do not have a Google account. Oh I tried. On two different occasions even, and was denied. They did not feel inclined to inform me as to why nor to respond to my emails asking just that question. So I'm sticking with the old version as long as possible. Could it be that sticky crows' days are numbered?

We've got a car for the weekend. We're only using it to go shopping for stuff we can't afford. We picked up some blinds for the office window (there's a lovely stained yellow sheet covering it now) last night and spent $200. Spouse of course longed for custom blinds (the uber cool ones) and I had to steer him to the looks-just-like-real-wood kind. They're white, and they're going to be just fine.

Snippets in a rush

* Compassion is not the same as "tough love". One label adheres more readily to liberals and the other to conservatives.

* I was lost for three months. I finally feel myself again.

* Most languages in the world do not have the verb "have". In such languages, possession is expressed with a prepositional relation. "The coffee is to me" or "This house is with me" for example.

* I believe the "trickle down"' theory can only work if there is a "maximum wage".

* This just in. Holes in your socks can lead to foot blisters.

* I saw a girl that looked just like my friend Donna. Same vintage coat, same hair, same distinctive face, same walk. It's your twin D! (I really thought it was you at first.)

* One remarkable thing about the internet - it's turned into a great equalizer. The reins of creativity are no longer held by the elite.

* Spouse often bemoans his hairlessness. But I like it.

* In other spousal news - he turns 40 next week. I still don't know what to get him.

* Is it legal for a man to marry his widow's sister? (You do not need to know law to answer this.)

HNT

It's Thursday, so as I was taking (at 5am) my shower wracking my brain for topics, I realized I could just take a pic and voila! Blog done.


It's supposed to be balmy for November today, hence the lack of long underwear.

Happy HNT!

Not a bad post election morning

What a lovely surprise to find the lock on power the Republicans have enjoyed be tempered by the gains of Democrats. And while I would like to conclude that people are finally pulling their heads out, there are still the 8 ballot measures approved overwhelmingly to BAN same-sex marriage. (That makes 28 states who have passed similar legislation.) It says a lot that so much energy is spent on BANNING something that isn't even permitted. It's like that little known law that bars people from fraternizing with aliens. (the kind from outer space, and no, I'm not kidding.)

Also charming is xenophobic Arizona voters making "English" the official language of the state. That's a whole lot of freedom there.

As usual, lots of bittersweet. On the sweet side, Rick Santorum has lost his seat, maybe I could be convinced to visit Pennsylvania now. Hopefully I'll not have to hear his vile gay bashing rhetoric anymore.

I must say that overall, I'm pleasantly surprised. Maybe the will of the people will be more accurately reflected for the next couple of years.

Short on time

I've got no time again this morning. And nothing in mind to pontificate on. (Not that I'm a grand pontificator or anything.) I am keenly aware of the election south of the border, but I am far less vested in the outcome than I was in '04. Still, I have some hopes for a shakeup.

Spouse made spaghetti squash last night. And then he served it with spaghetti sauce (bolognese if you must know) which struck me as odd. Squash with red sauce just didn't sound right. But wow, talk about delicious. And no bloated full feeling like you get from pasta.

Here's an old joke from an old friend: A guy walked into a bar. He said, "ouch".

Get it?

Enjoy the day. And vote dammit!

Returning to normalcy

We had a normal weekend! No terrible drama, no angry bitterness, lots of sleep. We had guests over on Saturday, and Sunday was a glorious day of puttering. I took the dog out for a long walk and marveled at the leaf carpet in the park.

While I was out with the dog, Serge decided to work on some things around the house. When I returned, I noted his grouchiness. Apparently he was harboring resentment because I was not attending to the things which until then, only resided on a list in his head. I decided to get the camera to see if that would soften him up a bit. Here he is cleaning the ceiling fan.



I've had good luck with a "go back to sleep" method suggested by one of my students from Health Canada. She stayed after class last week to tell me to "imagine the top of my head is cut off, and then focus on your breathing as with each breath your thoughts all escape from the top of your head". I smiled and thanked her thinking, "yeah yeah, but I've got it bad." Nevertheless, it's worked three times. I start doing it and the next thing I know it's morning. So cool.

True fables

Many years ago, I lived with Em. Like many in their early 20s, we lived beyond our means. We had a cat named Spam. Sometimes we called her Spammy and perhaps even Spamela. I do not remember how we came to posess this cat, but I'm fairly certain she was free. We loved this cat and its calico coat. One day Spam got sick and wasn't eating or drinking. The veterinarian said she needed a blood transfusion. We (agonizingly, excruciatingly) borrowed money to pay for it. We brought Spam home from the vet and three days later, she disappeared and we never saw her again. Now is the moral of this story one, blood transfusions are a waste of money, two, don't let the cat outside, or three, do not name cats meat products?

Snippets

* Where did the word "bulldozer" come from? I fail to see the relationship between the machine and sleeping bovine.

* Here's a fun trick at work. Place a dollop of whip cream/sour cream/mayo etc. on the ear end of the receiver of the telephone. Push the hold button and replace the receiver. Tell the intended target there's a call for them. (Be careful who you set up! A response of rage is a distinct possibility.)

* If 9/11 hadn't occurred, do you think Iraq would still have been invaded?

* I was horrified to learn that in North Korea, the state begins caring for children at six months of age. The indocrination officially begins then.

* I can safely say that I fully understand the phrase, "Buyer beware" now.

* The doctor asked if I had signs of depression. I said, "Yes, but isn't that normal when you buy a building full of deadbeat drug addicts and you stay up nights fretting about it?"

* Favorite Seinfeld lines. Elaine: It shrinks? Jerry: Mulva? George: Vandalay! Vandalay! Kramer: People kept ringing the bell!

* You know why we haven't switched to ethanol yet? Multi-national oil companies protecting their profits, that's why. This is the loophole that the virus enters in the Capitalism software.

* A sense of entitlement is the direct opposite of gratitude.

* My cousin had a baby. (Congrats!) Now what is my relationship to this new being? Second cousin?

* I once had a customer who informed me that she was seriously allergic to California wine. I managed not to burst out laughing.

* You get much more in life by simply replacing "I want" with "I need" when making requests. (It's an old trick I learned from a former boss.)

* We've switched to police officer, firefighter, and flight attendant. But a manhole is still a manhole. (Insert crude double entendre here.)

* It's simply impossible for you to lick your elbow.

Blessing count

It looks like Friday will see my 50000th hit for the blog. I know this is peanuts for the more popular writers, but I like that I have a couple hundred readers who come back again and again. In a little over a week, I should reach my 500th post as well. This is unbelievable to me. I guess I can say I've written a book of sorts. A scrapbook if you will, of the life I've led over the past couple years. One of my favorite "emotions" is a sense of accomplishment, and that is what I'm feeling now.

It hasn't brought any money my way, but it has brought some things that money can't buy. Comeraderie for one, and the chance to bond with people that I wouldn't otherwise have had the chance to. It's amazing how much affinity I have for all the folks on my blog list on the left. I carry them in my thoughts and wonder about their days as I go through mine. It's a whole big love practice, and for that I am grateful.

I flirt from time to time with quitting the blog. But then I remember the big blog family that I'd have to say goodbye to and I just can't. So I guess y'all are stuck with me for a while. I'm sendy big sloppy kisses to everyone. (God I'm sentimental this morning. Who says men can't get hormonal?)

Garbage day

Let's see. We have a leak in the garage (which we're avoiding presently) and the main drain backed up in the building (the emergency service - read *expensive*- actually blamed dental floss). I think I'm on record saying that when life gives me lemons, I pretend there are no lemons. However, it's a little harder to take this view when life is pummeling you with them. I know, I know, I made my choices, now deal with it. Join the chorus in my head, won't you?

I squeeze out a few happy moments, don't worry. Funny how work has suddenly become a sheltered cove where events unfold exactly as I predict. I never thought I'd be the kind of person who felt more comfortable at work than at home. But there you have it, still learning shit about myself. Hard shit. Deep shit. I don't want to talk about it.

Yesterday, I was served breakfast by a lady in a nun's habit. She said, "The usual?" and I nodded. I burned the roof of my mouth on the breakfast potatoes. As you can see, the rest of the day fell in line likewise.

Today just has just got to be better!