The case of the missing poopy wipes

It's official, I have fallen in love with wet wipes.


Vegas cuisine, harsh as it is on one's plumbing, coupled with the desert climate make for some serious anal chapping with regular paper. I tend to forget the ass problems of yesteryear which is why Rebekah (in her infinite wisdom) brought a brand new box with her.

In Vegas, we had two rooms that connected. We only needed the one room, but since we had two, we designated the surplus room to be the pooping room. So Rebekah stationed the box of wet wipes on the top of the toilet tank there. It was wonderful, I must say. I learned what it is like to actually anticipate the cool wetness applied to my sphincter. (plus you can get a good feel for the land down there by slightly rubbing. you can't really do that with regular paper.)

Normally, the Vegas dump would consist of trepidation and wincing. But not this time. In love I am, with wet wipes.

On the second day in Vegas, imagine my horror upon entering the pooping room to find the box of wet wipes missing. Panic quickly ensued.

"Rebekah! Where's the wet wipes? Where did you put them?"

"They're on the back of the toilet, aren't they?"

We both frantically looked all over the rooms and bathrooms to no avail. Nothing. Vanished.

We decided that the maid must have accidentally swiped the wipes, thinking they were trash or something. We were aghast with the prospect of facing the bowl unarmed.

It was Rebekah who took action while I sat in the corner looking forlorn.

"Hi, I'm calling because there is a box of wet wipes missing from the room." Rebekah went on to describe the box in full detail while I imagine the housekeeping representative to whom she spoke couldn't stop rolling her eyes. I didn't think prospects were good for getting the wet wipes back so I couldn't even enjoy the humor of the moment.

A half an hour later, while getting ready to go out to the theater, Rebekah found the wet wipes in her suitcase. She was flummoxed as to how they had gotten there. (I, on the other hand, was not flummoxed at all - she had put them there.)

Rebekah called back housekeeping, and as though written for television, the lady answered, "So, did we find something in our room?"

Nonetheless, we were excrementally relieved, yuk yuk yuk.

California vacation photos

Serge arrived last Friday and we spent the weekend with family, hanging out here at my mom's house and also at the beach. We stayed at a nice hotel that I scored on Priceline.

Oh how I laughed when I opened the drawer in the hotel room. Spouse was confused as to why I was laughing so hard. He still doesn't really get it. (The "spirit" to serve, get it? Isn't Marriot clever?)

We had a good time at the Martini Bar at the hotel. The girl in the background poured us too many and this made for unremembered phototaking the next morning.

Spouse will surely insist that this comes off the blog when he wakes up and sees it.


Then on Monday, we headed up the coast to Big Sur.

(The 405 freeway didn't want us to get there very quickly though. Can I just complain bitterly for a moment about the torture that is driving on that godawful 17 lane monstrocity. I hate it because no matter the day or time, the promise of fast driving was foiled by TOO MANY CARS. In fact, the whole time I was in the states I felt like it was crowded. Everywhere we went, traffic and crowds. That is, until we got up to Big Sur country.)


A short walk up from our campsite.

A short walk down from our campsite. This was the resident Rock God looking over our campground beach. Oh and me in the foreground.

Stunning beauty everywhere.

Grassy hills and forested valleys with sharp cliffs meet the Pacific Ocean. I thought spouse looked cute in this one.

A nice one of us together.

Em knitted us scarves, and we modeled them for her.

Finally, our group photo from the trip. I think we all had great fun.

There are loads more pics, and lots of snippets in the journal so I'll delve into some of that this week. I missed everyone in blogland and will try to get caught up on blogs over the next few days.

I just got home

And this is what I had to claim at customs in addition to the fabulous new camera.

More to come....

Almost half way through the trip

Hi there. I am alive and well. Vegas was a blast, I lost much less than I had planned, and Rebekah won buttloads of cash. We stayed an extra day even. The casino loved us and comped us all kinds of food and of course the rooms were free. Plus we got rush tickets for Mama Mia (or is it mamma?) which is a show I've been wanting to see. We were a hair's breadth away from splurging on Elton John tickets, but in the end Pai Gow was the bigger draw.

My new favorite game - Pai Gow poker. Pai gow is when you don't even have a pair your hand is so bad. I'm using it as a curse word now.

I've hardly taken any pics. But it is my mission to take some soon.

What else?

I have topics bouncing around in my head, but nothing has come to fruition yet in the journal.

I'll just leave this for the moment. I've been thinking about the research that's being done into homosexuality. Some very interesting things are emerging pointing to events in the womb; that perhaps the mother chemically feminizes or masculinizes the brain.

Anyway, what I was thinking was, why all the research on the subject? Is the end goal to eradicate homosexuality? If they discover that it is a trait that can be identified pre-birth, would they start testing for it? Would it be something humanity is interested in eradicating?

Frankly this scares me, because I think the answer to that last question is YES.

Talk amongst yourselves, and at the very least, I shall return on the 22nd. Perhaps I'll post a mini update on Sunday though too, we'll see.

I'll check in in a week or so

Thanks for all the well wishing. I adore you all.

As a farewell token, I'm going to leave you with my rendition of "The Aristocrats" (which is not worksafe for the audio, vilest joke on the planet as it is)



Mwah!

Vacationitis

* The farther you travel from home, the more likely you are wealthier than the local constituency.

* It's true, suitcases shrink when you travel. Maybe they are related to time?

* More money is always spent than what has been budgeted.

* Unless you're trekking in Nepal or Africa or some such place, your bank card is all you need.

* The pictures in your mind are always better than the ones in your hand.

* The same fun can be had, be it 100 miles, 1000 miles or 10000 miles away. That's because vacation is, more than anything, a state of mind.

* Sometimes vacation doesn't lend itself to relaxation. That's okay. Go with it.

* The after vacation glow-slash-sadness is one of the greatest things in life. The definition of bittersweet.

* In England, they call it "holiday".

* Permanent vacation is oxymoronic. Like the first throes of passion and falling in love, the intense feelings of pleasure become, by and by, tempered and flattened.

* You can sometimes get a little burst of "vacationitis" by visiting your workplace on your day off.

* Vacation can induce debauchery. Let it!

* Vacations are also memories to be jumped into again and again:

* The smell of tortillas being made in an open air market of Toluca, Mexico. The roast suckling pig turning on its spit in the window of a Toledo Spain restaurant (the baby head and eyes staring at you). The gyrations of the bartender in Hong Kong as he poured the house special into the waiting mouth of a girl spread out atop the bar (this done from his pants in an oh so thinly veiled recreation of ejaculation - and this to a crowd of screaming westerners).

* The snow crab in Gaspé, the date shakes of Indio, the baguette bought in a village shop in northern France (don't ask me which village, there are a bazillion).

* Tours of Hoover Dam, Heineken factory, the palace of Versailles, Havasupai, the Carlsbad Caverns.

* My body covered by bug bites at Lake Havasu, my brother throwing up in the lobby of a fine Spanish hotel, breaking down in the middle of the desert, the threat of jail while enjoying libations in an Ensenada tavern. (Even disasters provide golden memories.)

* Only one day left and I'm outta here!

Stream of conciousnessing

The flow of time they tell me, is constant. Unchanging and unflinching like the gaze of God himself, time carries us through life. But my how the perception of time changes. When you are young, time passes excruciatingly slowly and an afternoon sometimes takes a week to get through. Conversely, as you get older and the quantity of time you (ostensibly) have here diminishes, the more quickly it slips through your fingers. A kind of cruel cosmic irony, that.

Time leaves its mark everywhere: on your face, on the map, in the shops and even in the garden.

One nice thing about getting older is the increased instances of nostalgia. This is similar to wistful memories of camp when you were young. But this is not true nostalgia. No, nostalgia is sweet and rich like a chocolate covered cherry.

My first car got 6 miles to the gallon. Of course gas was only 29 cents a gallon.

Children all over the world were sent outside to play. WITHOUT SUNSCREEN. Yes, sunscreen didn't even exist as a word. If you wanted to block the sun (because you had mangled your nose and lips by repeatedly frying them in the sun) you would use a white ointment called zinc oxide.

If someone said bottled water, you thought Sparkletts.

I remember the first soda I had in a plastic bottle. I was suspect about drinking carbonation from plastic. Prior to that, soda only came in glass or cans. And the cans had a tab that you pulled off and discarded prior to drinking. They were a constant source of cuts to the hands and feet.

Amyl nitrate was sold behind the bar.

What would life be like without remote controls, computers, cell phones, Cd's, airbags, porcelain veneers, liposuction, the space shuttle and rap music? You know what, it wasn't half bad.

Now I sound really old.

I forgot about Rapture

Let's just assume for a moment that the Aztecs and Mayans were right in that there was no use for a calendar after 2012. According to them, this age comes to an end on the winter solstice of that year. Chillingly, the Aztec calendar also predicted the arrival of of a "white god" on the exact date that Cortéz arrived - many believe that this explains why they didn't put up a fight even though they vastly outnumbered Cortéz's men. The Mayans specifically point to the date 12/21/2012 as when this age ends. Finito. Nada mas. Kablooie.

It certainly seems plausible what with the looming possibility and even statistical PROBABILITY of nuclear war, global warming, bird flu and asteroids. All of these things could end the world as we know it.

So.

What do I want to get done?

All I can come up with is "less work, more play".

Even if the Aztecs and Mayans are wrong, it doesn't seem like such a bad life mentality.

****

Happy fourth of July to all my blood down south! Have fun and eat a hot dog for me!

Giddy pre vacation itis

Gosh summer just makes me want to flake on all my responsibilities, rip off all my clothes and run wild in the fields and rivers and mountains and beaches. It looks like this wish is going to be coming true. This weekend, I embark on my annual tour de l'ouest, visiting family and friends in California for two weeks. It will be another whirlwind visit and my calendar is full day and night with various engagements. Three days in Vegas and 4 days camping in Big Sur figure into the agenda.

What's more is that I have my new camera waiting for me. I decided to go ahead and get this one and had it shipped to California. So this is the last week with my trusty Olympus 1.3 megapixel camera from 1998. Here are a few pics I took yesterday at the Botanical garden. (I've already gone thrice!)

This is not a new hairdo. Spouse said, "hey your hair looks good that way" the other day when I got out of the shower. So I left it. This is post bikeride to the garden.


We toured the greenhouses. I am in love with the orchid house, and tropical garden.


There are several bonsai gardens and exhibits. Bonsai rate high on my cool meter.


Catterserge.

I'm a little distracted this week due to the upcoming vacation. In fact, sometimes the anticipation ends up being a better time than the actual vacation. (Well, not if I win ten grand in Vegas.)

Jazzfest weekend

The Montreal Jazz Festival is unlike any other. The greatest part is that most of the concerts are free and play continuously from noon to midnight. A sizable chunk of the downtown core is closed off and 7 outdoor stages are erected. In the evenings there are three or four concerts going on at once at any given time. Plus there are street performers a-plenty. Of course there is lots of food and booze and trinkets to buy if you are so inclined.

Here is Serge near a very tall man.

This is in the crowd during the day. (spouse is making his goofy face just out of frame) At night it is ten times more crowded. We went back to see the Brazilian singer I wanted to see in the evening, but I got too claustrophobic and had to flee from the crowd. If there is one thing they need to do better, it's crowd control. (It started to rain, and the umbrellas went up and people started moving and you couldn't have any individual choice of direction, I felt like flotsam on the water.)

And this festival goes on for 10 days! It's one of the greatest perks of living here. There is no other jazz festival like it, and if you've never been to Montreal, the first week of July is a great time to plan visiting.

Cultural Oddity

Today is July first. For many Canadians, this is a day to demonstrate gratitude for the country and to honor it with parades, barbeques and beer drinking. Pretty much like the 4th in the states. But for the French Canadians, this day has a very different meaning.

It's moving day.

You see, here in Quebec, flags are flown and heritages are honored on June 24th. That is when the Quebecers wave their flags, have their barbeques and drink their beer. July 1st is moving day here and up and down the streets in every neighborhood in town, you will see people moving out of and into apartments. It's a huge choreography that began a week ago.

For the last week, as everyone who is moving this year readied their belongings, scavenging has been quite lucrative for the second hand store men crawling the alleys. I used to go out and bring things home (a down jacket! a chest of drawers! a perfectly good pair of leather shoes! a mirror!) but spouse now forbids it. For him, if it has been thrown out by someone else, there's some kind of stink on it that can never be gotten off. It is amazing to me the things that people will throw out that are perfectly re-sellable.

The reason that today is moving day is that the government issued rental agreements are standardized for one year beginning July 1st. Rent control is very strong here and although one can move in or out of a place at any time, the lease always is prorated to July 1st and then renewed annually.

Moving companies charge ridiculous hourly amounts for the trucks today. Some companies burst into existence for just this week and vanish just as quickly, pocketing, I imagine, tidy sums.

You can envision the logistical nightmare this is. Driving is impossible as moving trucks clog residential streets. Moving out and in is all done this day with all the apartments changing hands. Cleaning must be done in between and everyone has to hurry because the people and trucks are booked somewhere else after you.

Quite bizarre, wouldn't you agree?

We don't have to deal with any of that this year. Our renters are staying as are we. The Jazz Festival has begun and there are some good things playing tonight. They've also closed down the village for an art festival. I like it for the people watching. I'll try to get some pics.

Snippets

* I found out this week that I can still dissolve clouds.

* Ever imagined what a shitstorm would really look like?


* Bottle River

* I weigh 4 million ants.

* Is it better to be fat or be a smoker? It appears I will have to make a choice.

* Something I'm aware of but never indulged participated in - felching.

* It's this time of year they need to do a Public Service Announcement on the necessity of deoderant. Please, keep our city fresh smelling!

* In the chair at the dentist office, the hygenist repeatedly crammed her buxomness into my head as she worked. I imagine many a boner are popped in that chair. Alas, mine wasn't.



*Marshmallow cheeseburger

* I am a master at shuffling and reorganizing. (Spouse says this is not real cleaning.)

Probably should have done HNT instead

Lately it's been torture for me to come up with posts. After the love/fart/egg sandwich post last week, I felt like George on Seinfeld when he learned to always leave on a high note. After that post (and other popular ones) I felt like saying, Thank you and good night . For real. But I didn't.

Did you know that if you stop working out or exercising, your muscles ATROPHY? The same goes for writing. And loving. And relationships. And self discipline.

Sigh.

I plug along, not sure of what or if I have anything to say. Putting words in front of others to just give you a glimpse at the machinery. Dull as it may sometimes be.

I want to write bitter dentist posts.

Today I shall go back for a second time this week in order to have both blood and money let. Monday was my first filling in about 20 years that I needed. My regular dentist is on vacation so I have the other one. The other one is gruff and says little. I know what his secret is too, as it's readily readable in all his mannerisms. He hates his job but is trapped doing it. Anyway, he jacked me up so full of novacain that my eye drooped and I had trouble swallowing. Unforturnately, he didn't wait long enough for it to really take effect before he started grinding out my tooth. Even as I winced, he made no effort to soothe me. It's okay, I can take it, I'm a man. At least that is what I kept telling myself. Then he left the room and the torture cleaning dental assistant came in to finish the job. She reminds me of a teacher always frowning at things she doesn't like and saying "Good!" when she is pleased. The only difference is that I didn't DO anything to merit frowns or praises. Still, I am happy when she looks in my mouth and says "Good!". I guess I'm just a praise junkie.

A pic from way back

This is circa 1977. I don't really know the exact date. I swear my mother looks the same as that today. Except now she wears her hair in two long braids laid down on top of her head. (Her hair is very long.)

It looks to me like my tooth growth outpaced my head growth doesn't it?

The truth is, I still feel like that skinny tow-headed gangly pre-teen. That was a time when anything was possible and my heart soared regularly. Nowadays my head interferes with the soaring most of the time, but deep down I still feel like that kid in the picture.

My mother told me the same thing a few years ago. She said, "I still feel like a teenage girl inside." And I knew it was true as soon as she said it, but you would never know it from meeting her.

I wonder if we all have our "adult skin" on, which is really like a camouflage or a distortion of what's really going on inside. I often talk about how much I hate childish behavior from adults, but really, if we're all children deep down, it's no wonder we can't all get along in this sandbox we call Earth.

Keeping it fluffy

Thanks Dickeybird for this one. (and all those before him)

1. Which curse word do you use the most?
Hostie in French. Shit in English.

2. Do you own an iPod?
No, 100 songs fit on ONE cd. I fail to see the necessity of an ipod.

3. What time is your alarm clock set for?
6:00 but I am not using it currently.

4. How many suitcases do you own?
We have 3.

5. Do you wear flip flops even when it's cold?
Never flip-flops. (Flip flops are only acceptable beach or lakeside. No I'm serious. That's it, otherwise you're whitetrash.) I wear Birkenstocks in the summer.

6. Would you rather take the picture or be in the picture?
Take it.

7. What was the last movie you watched?
I can't recall. At the movie theater it was Capote.

8. Do you or any of your friends have children?
I don't and I have friends who do and don't. (and as an aside, WHO CARES)

9. Has anyone ever called you lazy?
Probably. Isn't everyone lazy?

10. Do you ever take medication to help you sleep?
Sure. But so rarely that I can't be relied upon to keep any in the house.

11. Which CD is currently in your CD player?
Morning Music Volume 1 (1996)

12. Do you prefer regular or chocolate milk?
Neither. Milk is for kids.

13. Has anyone told you a secret this week?
No.

14. When was the last time someone hit on you?
A restaurant customer last year. (By "hit on" I'm assuming you mean "make a pass at")

15. Can you whistle?
Sure.

16. Who was the last person you talked to on the phone?
Rebekah

17. Do you think people talk about you behind your back?
Probably. I don't think too often about that though.

18. Did you watch cartoons as a child?
Yes. Looney tunes were my favorite, and I loved schoolhouse rock. I also loved the David and Goliath preachy claymation shows.

19. Are you shy around the opposite sex?
No. But I'm shy in big groups.

20. Which movie(s) do you know every line to?
None. Although spouse might dispute that.

21. Do you own any band t-shirts?
No. I'm too cheap. They should be paying me to advertise on my body.

22. What is your favorite salad dressing?
Blue Cheese.

23. Who was the last person to make you mad?
The bad old dentist.

24. Do you do your own dishes?
We both do it. Actually, the dishwasher does most of it.

25. Ever cry in public?
In movie theaters. yes.

26. Are you on a desktop computer or a laptop?
Desktop.

27. Are you currently wanting any piercings or tattoos?
Nope.

28. Would you ever date someone covered in tattoos?
It wouldn't be a deal breaker.

29. What did you do before this?
Got a filling.

30. When was the last time you slept on the floor?
Donna's house a couple years ago.

31. How many hours of sleep do you need to function?
7

32. Do you eat breakfast daily?
Yes. This week I started fruit only in the morning. (I may have to go back to bagel and cream cheese though.)

33. Are your days full and fast-paced?
9 months of the year, yes. Three months are pretty laid back. I am currently enjoying one of the laid back periods.

34. Do you pay attention to the calories on the package?
No. But I did see that a bagel has almost 300 calories. One reason I changed.

35. Do you use sarcasm?
I try. But it always falls flat. Or people take me too seriously. Or I'm just not funny. I should just stop trying.

36. How old will you be on your next birthday?
Forty one.

37. Are you picky about spelling and grammar?
Only my own.

38. Have you ever been to Six Flags?
Yes.

39. Do you get along better with the same sex or the opposite sex?
Probably the opposite.

40. Do you like mustard?
Oh yes.

41. Do you sleep on your side, stomach, or back?
Stomach.

42. Do you watch the news?
Usually for a few minutes just before bed.

43. One of your scars--how did you get it?
The one on my face is from when I was a toddler. I saw the babysitter shave and when he was done, I snuck into the bathroom and took the straight edge blade and whacked myself in the face. Or so I'm told. It happened before my memory started so according to my brain, I've had it all my life.

Some problems with pride

I guess it's official. I'm anti-flag. I haven't put the rainbow flag up on my site in honor of pride month (did you notice?) largely because I see no reason for pride over facts. It's like being proud to have skin.

Next week, both Canada and the US will be celebrating themselves with holidays and fireworks. Oh and lots of flags. It's everone's annual patriotic exercise, nay, nationalistic duty.

Ça ne sert à rien!

Aren't most conflicts based on defined differences among us? We would like to think there is a big difference between people based on where they were born when individual upbringing counts far more. (As do the parents' genes.)

I understand the arguments for celebrating pride month, waving gay flags and demonstrating solidarity in the face of a sometimes hostile culture toward gays. I do.

But for me the flag is not a tool to bring people together. In the end it creates larger rifts between us, imaginary as they may be. Not one of us is responsible for the existence of our country nor our birth in it. So "pride" is just a code word for "let's feel superior to others".

Furthermore, even the gay flag lends itself to the phenomenon.

I am not proud to be American, Canadian, Gay and White. I am simply grateful to be those things.

A page for the scrapbook

As promised, I have a couple pics from our excursion yesterday. I would have more but Serge has prohibited me from showing any pics of him shirtless. It was the perfect day with the perfect temperature. I packed ham sandwiches and fruit and we headed off with the bikes to the ferry dock. A dozen or so other riders shared the boat over to the Boucherville Islands National Park.


Here you can see the excitement generated by the ferry ride.

Within forty five minutes of leaving home, we saw a deer. We would eventually see three more and the last time I was able to take a picture before he majestically bounded away. I circled the deer's head for you. He was maybe 50 feet away from us.


It was splendid to spend the day out in nature, enjoying the outdoors, getting some exercise and sun at the same time.

We got home feeling like we had spent all day at the beach. Fried and Tired. Fulfilled and drained. Quite possibly the perfect day.

Chit chat sat

It's been a great week. And how could it not have been? I'm essentially OFF. But the bike rides and garden visits and lounging about isn't all I do. I play Scrabble, knit, play the piano, listen to the radio, workout and read books. (I like to be constantly engaged.)

What I should be doing is working on the Bookmark project (a small money making idea) and stripping the spare room so that we can tear down the walls and re-drywall it. Soon, I keep telling myself.

Today is the Quebec holiday that is celebrating all things Quebec....so everybody gets drunk. Perfect day for it. I'm not too keen on the nationalist sentiment and the festooning of flags everywhere, but I suppose every place has its "nationalist day".

Spouse and I are taking the bikes out today. Our destination: Les Isles de Boucherville The ferry begins service today and we can get out there with our bikes and look around. It is a national park so it should be worthwhile. I'll take pics. Have a swell Saturday!

Snippets

* I had oxymoronic luck this week. While riding my bike, the seat fell off. I was very, very far from home, but it happened in front of a bike repair shop. They fixed it for free.

* While on Tuesday's bikeride this week, I got a chance to do my Yul Gibbons impression on video.




* Do you think you could sell your forehead as advertising space? As in a tatoo?

* For me, weather is the constant amazing movie in the sky.

* Proof of air conditioning. The best purchase of the decade.

* Spouse squished a big ant yesterday. With his bare foot. Gross.

* You'd think after three months, I'd stop desiring a ciggie. Of course you'd be wrong.

* The only thing "wrong" with fat is visual. Feels great in bed.

* In high school, I was beaten up by a couple of guys who were essentially gay bashing. I remember several kicks to the face while I was curled up on the ground all the while hearing "fucking faggot" hurled at me. Now I see these guys on Classmates and they are all smiley and have families, and all I can think is that I want them to die, to lose a child or to suffer some terrible thing. Jesus Christ I ain't.

What is love?

Do you know about or remember those "Love is" cartoons? They were always kind of sappy and corny with the title "Love is" at the top and then two naked children were performing some kind of act ( I always thought it was weird about the naked children) and at the bottom of the cartoon it would say something like "sharing an ice cream cone" or some such blather. Here I'll go find an example for you.



See I told you they were naked children.

Anyway, I thought of a new panel for this cartoon that I'm sure that they haven't done yet.

See, yesterday morning as spouse and I were at our respective computers, I had to let one. As it was just us, I made no effort to muffle it, but as it happened, it slid out quite silently. As the odor reached my nostrils, I thought, "whew, ripe" to myself and continued looking at my screen.

A few seconds later, spouse poked his head up over the monitor.

"Hey, what did you make? I want some!" he said in a whiny, hey what about me way.

I looked at him and asked, "What do you think I'm eating?"

"It smells really good, like egg sandwich."

Chuckling, I thought about the cartoon and how the panel would say: Love is....mistaking his farts for egg sandwiches.

Needless to say I was charmed and spouse was rather revolted once he discovered he was salivating over the smell of my innards.

Good times.

Happy first day of summer

I received our new "friends of the garden" cards yesterday. These cards entitle us to unlimited visits to the botanical garden for one year. (And it only cost the equivalent of two visits!) So I shot up there yesterday to see what other beings have to say about the summer equinox.

This tree was clearly celebrating with thousands upon thousands of blooms.


One of nature's oft repeated patterns. The hexagon.


Blue is rare in nature. I'm not sure if these are "natural" but they are pretty darn blue.


Well these guys were triumphant in their welcoming of summer.


This is my favorite shot I got yesterday. It is now my computer wallpaper for the season.

(All pictures are clickable for screen-filling versions)

My current recipe for living

1. Express Gratitude Every Day.

I do this in many ways. In the morning, I set aside a bit of my breakfast to say thank you. I try to really feel the gratitude for having another day before me. Then throughout the day I look for ways to say thank you, the way the sun pokes through the clouds Thank You, the way someone shares a smile with you over a stranger's baby on the bus Thank You, the deli has your favorite sandwich on special Thank You. (I know that at sometime in my past I would have read this paragraph and gagged.)

2. Exercise the Wonder Muscle Every Day

I don't know everything, do you? In order to learn, one must seek knowledge. The easiest way to do this is to get curious, and marvel at what you find. But the answers are less important than the state of mind of "wondering". It is there that imagination and creativity combine to open one's mind to things. It is "interest" or the "curiousity" about things that keeps this life fresh and available. Does that make sense?

3. Love and Be Loved (pets count!)

As much as you can. Why waste time hating and surrounding yourself with people who don't care about you. This works for rich, poor, smart and stupid alike.

Fatty

Spouse has been bugging me to post this video he took of me. (He claims that I never put anything up that shows me in a bad light.) I used to do this really neat trick where I could roll one "roll" of skin down my abdomen. But since I've gained some weight, the effect is diminished. Anyway, here's the trick:



Spouse is delighted that I have gained weight so he can tease me. We're not going to mention his Buddha-like appendage that he calls his stomach. Oh wait.

Cheapskate trap

Okay, I was in the market in the deli section where they have mountains of cheeses piled up. I love the cheeses, sometimes I check to see if my favorites are there, just to make sure my little babies are available, the secret cheeses that only I appreciate. Anyway, I spotted some grated Parmesan cheese in ziploc type pouches. And the price seemed VERY reasonable. Or was it? I had to be sure, so I went looking for the pasta aisle where they keep the Kraft brand (I don't like the chunks as they tend to create bloody knuckles when you grate them) to find out how much it cost per gram. Per gram! I thought to myself that I am officially an old lady.

But you know what? I was right, the one in the fresh deli section was almost half the price. So I went back and grabbed them. Both of the two remaining. And I felt smug as I finished my shopping. Bargains are like happy beans for me.

Yesterday, I made my famous Caesar Salad. It is a huge pain in the ass because I make everything from scratch including the croutons. (Secretly, I love the egg coddling part) It makes a whole dishwasherful of dishes to make it. So we sit down and start eating it and put some of the Parmesan on the salad (it was also in the dressing) and we just didn't find it to be as perfect as it usually is. Since the parmesan was the only possible deviation from the recipe, I had a look at the package.

My eyes widened in horror when I read closely:

Grated cheese product with parmesan. Like it's an afterthought with the parmesan. And what is grated cheese product. Is that like cheese-shit?

Anyway, I had to laugh at my cheapskate ways, and remember an oft learned lesson - Read the packaging!

Lazy update

Had a late night playing poker last night. I did pretty well and then rode my bike home through the gauntlet of cruisers in the park at two in the morning. (What, it was on my way, a little late night theater is always fun.) It'd be a little frightening if I didn't know they were just looking for sex.

Do you think it suggests I have a gambling problem that the hotel comped me four nights in July? Actually, I've never been comped before so it was rather exciting to receive that offer. I'm giddy as all getout for the upcoming annual Vegas junket with Rebekah.

What else? I turned in my last evaluations this week and completed all my paperwork, so I guess I'm officially off until mid August. I just do a little tutoring on Mondays and that's it. All week, the permagrin on my face is getting broader and broader. Off, off off, nothing better than being off! I'm trying not to gloat about it (oops too late) but it's truly a wonderful thing.

I'm reading Rich Dad, Poor Dad right now (thanks Donna) and I'm really happy to see that I have more qualities of the Rich Dad. Unfortunately spouse is Poor Dad all the way. I see that they have it translated in French, but I don't know if foisting it on spouse will have any impact. (ie he won't read it)

Finally a nice weekend here, and just in time, the international fireworks competition starts tonight and the whole city is going to come out. Tomorrow it's supposed to be over 30 (90) degrees! Until then, peace. (well after too)

Snippets

* My taste buds often confuse almonds and cherries. I wonder if they are related or just molecularly similar. (ok, or my tastebuds are retarded)

* I weighed myself for the first time in a few years yesterday. I am my heaviest ever. 185.

* Did you hear how somone got killed because they were making too much noise while the World Cup playoffs were on? I wonder how many people are going to die over this game before it's all said and done.

* Isn't falling in love just a bad case of obsessiveness?

* Confession: Spouse lost the receipt (for which there might have been the weest marital discord) and the Hydrangea is still a brown stick.

*I washed my robe and then lounged about in it all fluffy and warm. Then I took a shower and discovered green crack lint. Gobs of it.

* Something that always makes my mouth goosh when I see it.

* One's first mistake is usually to assume that others experience things in the same way. If there's one thing humans aren't, it's uniform.

Flossing up for the chair

I made my annual dental appointment yesterday. The race is on! I flossed the moment I got off the phone. Well, actually it took me a few minutes to FIND the floss, but then I really did floss. Last year I got lazy and regretted it, so this year I'm going to be ready. Ugh, last year:

All chirps and smiles as I am led to the torture hydraulic chair.

All affable-like the dentist beams, "How are you Torn, any troubles? No? That's good, we're just going to take a couple pictures and then my assistant Ms. Ratchet will have a go at that tartar."

Then he leaves the room.

"Oh my but you are a bleeder", nurse Ratchet tells me as she is sawing away bits of my gums. "You need to keep up on your flossing. Here, pay attention now," and she holds up a mirror to my bloody toothed visage and demonstrates. Harshly. I'm doing my best not to wince, but little tears spring from my eyes nonetheless. Fucker!

I tell you what, my gums are going to be so fucking firm this time, you could cut them out and use them for sneaker soles.

Fruits of idleness

Went on another long bikeride yesterday and decided to try to make a video a la MTV. After all, the cell phone has VIDEO DJ technology. What this means is that you will spend a lot of time converting files to a format that the cell phone uses. Plus bad quality video and sound! Yay!

The video is a smattering of the places I traveled and a song from the CD I was listening to.

After the bikeride, I needed to assemble and add a soundtrack to the videos.

For this minute and twenty seconds, I frittered away THREE hours. I hope you're impressed. (yes, I was off yesterday)




PS: It's the last day that I have to get up at the ugly buttcrack of dawn. Woo hoo!

The church wants its words back

There's been a big publicity campaign going on here lately sponsored by the Catholic Church. It seems they want their words back. I don't know if this is unique in the world, but all of the "curse" words here in Quebec are actually artifacts from the church.

If we stop for a moment and look at English, all of the curse words seem to center around body parts and functions. By naming someone a specific orifice, you can essentially say that you don't like someone (Asshole! Cunt!) or suggest that someone is a coward (Pussy!). When an unfortunate event occurs, one is likely to shout out a bodily function (Shit!) or the act of coupling (Fuck!)

But here in Quebec, you might hear something like this:

Q#1: Chalice of the Tabernacle!

Q#2: What's wrong?

Q#1: Host, I can't find my wallet, sacrament. Have you seen it?

Q#2: It's right here in plain view! Tabernacle, you're an idiot!

You see, chalice, host, sacrament and especially tabernacle are quite offensive terms when used blasphemously.

So the Catholic church has decided to reappropriate its words and has created a lovely billboard campaign to do so. You can read more about it here.

I think it's amusing because words are just words, even faggot and nigger. And words only have power if you let them. So don't let them!

Still, it's funny to ponder what these billboards might look like in English.

SHIT:
It's only excrement.

ASSHOLE:
Everybody's got one, just don't be one.

or even

CUNT
That could be your mother they're talking about.

Anyway, they have made the town buzz about it the last few weeks because it's highly shocking to see these words on billoards. It's like when I first saw a huge display for Fcuk perfume. I was so shocked, and even a little irritated.

My favorite off color expression in Quebec has got to be "Go (take a) shit!" This is something like "Go to Hell" in English. Apparently shitting is highly unpleasant here. (Could it be the poutine?)

I remember

Getting an ice cream cone at Thrifty drugs for a nickel.

That Reese's commercial where the people accidentally bump into each other whilst separately eating peanut butter and chocolate.

Dreaming about dying.

Singing Delovely in Musical Theater class in college. I was dreadful.

Extricating myself from the LA Acting School that was run by Scientologists.

Getting drunk the first time. I still can't drink rum. (Unless it's super camouflaged, like in a Mai Tai.)

The 45 of Terry Jack's Seasons in the Sun. It was the first I purchased with my own money.

Our cat, Spam, who died after we paid for a $400 blood transfusion.

Winning $100 on a scratch off ticket.

Attaching playing cards to the spokes of our bicycle so that they would make that sound when you rode.

Oy, my head hurts

Last night, we went on a sunset dinner cruise as part of the final day of a conference that spouse and his work are participating in/hosting. The other delegates hail from all over the globe and had a chance to visit Montreal during the 4 day conference. Unfortunately for them, it has pretty much done nothing but rain around here.

So what do you do on a sunset dinner cruise when it's pouring down rain? You drink. In fact, you drink copiously since you are trapped in a banquet room with fogged up windows for four long hours. (The following morning one reviews the thinking that led to that decision.) Once the cruise was over, spouse and I took a long walk in the rain down to the village.

Since I'm rarely out after midnight, I suggested we go for a "last one" before taking a cab home. I didn't want to pay a cover charge, but since it was Saturday night, I was probably dreaming. (Why do I have to pay for the right to purchase beverages? I hate this.) Anyway, we went to the downstairs of Parking and were told that if we ventured upstairs, it would cost $4.25. We had a couple of beers (wrong, wrong I'm sure of that now) and then came home. I don't really remember what happened then. I suppose we went to bed.

Hangovers and writing are a poor mix at best.

Headiness

Best Gay Blogs posted a short review of this here blog, and I was so thrilled that it wasn't a bad review! Said another way, I'm so honored and flattered to have their seal of recommendation. Thanks guys! (and talk about doubling your traffic!)

Welcome to all newbies and looky-loos, pull up a chair and get a cup of coffee and start with one of the "stickiest crows" on the left. I'm glad you stopped by.

Snippets

* When people say, "I don't care what anybody thinks about me," they usually mean that they hate that they care what everbody thinks about them.

* Poor spouse left me this note yesterday. Unfortunately I saw it at 7:55 when I woke up. (Which is really, really late for me.) And for the record, I never SCREAM at him to get up.

* Okay all you marketing geniuses, it's time we make "old" the new "young". Imagine if all the youth were running around painting on wrinkles and dying their hair gray. I can see it now: boob sagging contraptions and facelift reversals. Why not? Fat used to be thin.

* I found some tight boxer style undies at the dollar store for spouse. He has pronounced them acceptable but if he finds out where I got them, he will never wear them again. (Let's hope he bores early of this post.)

* I have this bad habit of doing something distasteful if someone gets too starry-eyed over me. I have been known to rip out a nasty booger and wipe it on a person. This usually breaks the spell.

* You won't be surprised to learn that I was unable to pass this one. I believe I tried qsalfipqr. It was wrong, naturally.

*I don't have any emotional connection with the name Ann(e?) Coulter. I understand she gets a rise out of quite a few people. Something like Lady Rush Limbaugh. Why put yourself through it? Just ignore that shit.

*The Friday snippets thing is starting to make me feel hemmed in. This is bad.

HNT & What is the world coming to?

This is how short the 12 year olds are wearing their skirts. Also, it is taking me a lot longer to finish the second scarf. I'm about a foot away from completion. Happy HNT! (And sorry about the dirty mirror, lol)

* * *


If you try not to offend anyone, then by definition you stay as middle-of-the-road as possible.

This blog, while a little bit "out there", is rather milktoast (or is it milquetoast?)

(Sure there have been exceptions.)

And I've realized too, that to sell products to the largest population segment, your advertising must tend to the middle.

And since news has become a business, we see what the "the widest audience" would be interested in.

It's like everything in our culture and society thrives on banality and mediocrity. (Doesn't every respectable town have a Walmart, Mickey D's, Subway, Home Depot and Drug store?)

I maintain that this is why art is so important, because art tends to offend our sensibilities and challenge our prejudices.

I don't know, our culture just feels stagnant to me sometimes or even worse, degenerating. Sigh.

Bikeride - Pics and Video

Click for larger version:

So many churches here, it's easy to get blasé about them.

Montreal color.


Just like the postcard, the Marché Bonsecours.


Red doors catch my eye now.


In bloom down at the Old Port.


Container limbo.


See the birdie?


Tim Burton was here.


Where am I again?


Color in the suburbs.

And now, a little video from the 35 kilometer ride. (I'm having trouble walking this morning.)

Longwinded today

Yesterday happened like Tim Burton was directing. It started off with an early morning call from mother-in-law. She wanted to know where spouse was as he had promised to have breakfast with her. Since spouse was sleeping and I hadn't even had my coffee yet, I thrust the cordless onto the ear of spouse. (It is this kind of gesture that engenders love in a relationship.) Wouldn't you know it but spouse was up, dressed, showered and out the door in 30 minutes.

Off he went to his mother's and shortly after, off I went to my regular Monday morning class with the Japanese ladies. We had tea and chestnuts and Karinto and a delightful lesson together. After that, I walked to father-in-law's house. I saw lots of robins and red-winged blackbirds. The Japanese ladies and he live on the same island. I needed to go to the FIL's house because at 1:30, we were all meeting at a cemetery outside of town to bury the ashes of brother-in-law. Spouse was going with his mom and her boyfriend, while I would go with FIL. Just as FIL and I were leaving his parking space, we heard a scratching crumpling sound and realized that somehow someone had parked their car in our blind spot in the time it took to get in and buckle up. Very strange. It was like the car appeared out of thin air. Out of the other car came a sixtyish man and he and FIL set to filling out the standard accident form. It asks for the usual things: address, location of incident, license number, and insurance policy number. I don't know how it's possible, but that took 35 minutes. So we were running late and would have to skip lunch. We drove straight to the small village of St Joseph du Lac, an hour outside of Montreal.

The small church with cemetery as back yard was perched on a hill overlooking a broad plain. The steeple shone with it's steel colored roof gleaming in the strong June sun. The air appeared as fluid, filled with dandelion fuzz carried on the breezes. I imagined a scene in the Big Chill and then the soundtrack was playing in my head. Spouse and MIL and her boyfriend were already waiting for us. After the bizarre church lady finished her hand written receipt, we proceeded up the hill to the family plot dating from the 1800's (and was paid to be maintained "in perpetuity".) We were four stoic men and a mother. We stiffly consoled her as she covered the urn with dirt, sobbing, angry. This is the stuff of life.

Spouse and I got a lift home from FIL and then spouse made us BLT's as we were then starving. FIL remarked how tranquil our little back yard and neighborhood is. He and spouse shared a couple of beers, a long time father son tradition, and then FIL left. Then the neighbor poked her head over the fence and told us what we had missed a few hours before. Apparently, while she was doing dishes, someone in the parkway (we don't have an alley, we have a little walking path that connects to the park) in back was watching her and masturbating. The neighbor upstairs saw him and called her. She turned to see him and even heard the "schlplth, schlplth" sound of him jacking off. *It was very strange to hear the neighborlady explain this sound! They called the police, but he had absconded before they arrived. Tranquil neighborhood indeed.

And then, then as if the day couldn't get any more bizarre, we turn to the other neighbor's house because a light catches our eye and there is a mattress in flames leaning up against the house. Fire! Spouse called 911 and I ran to the corner store to ask for a fire extiguisher. The crackhead welfare family lives upstairs from the fire and they were screaming while the other neighbors were telling them to get out and run for their lives. One of them came into the store just after me and started screaming at the clerk to call 911. I screamed to shut up, it's already done and where's the fire extinguisher already. Then we saw fire coming into the store from the back corner. Shit! Where are the firemen?! Time suddenly slowed to a crawl, but in reality, the firemen were there in three minutes. Crackhead boy grabbed the fire extinguisher from me and ran outside to the back. Fine I thought, it's probably your goddamned cigarette that you threw off the roof that started it asshole.

I went back home, heart palpitating, adrenaline flowing and watched the fireman theater as they put out the fire and made sure it was completely out. After that there was more drama as the crackhead family and the people below them argued. Finally, I saw crackhead boy spit right in the lady's face. I couldn't believe it. The really sad thing is that two toddlers live there.

And that was it. We made pea soup and watched a little tv.

I'm hoping today is a little less "exciting".

The skirt crapper

I haven't laughed like I did this weekend in a very long time. Not only that, but I was all alone when the laughing occurred. And the source of my amusement is something that will be available for months to come, all I need to do is think about the line.

What line? I'm glad you asked. The line is, "I had crapped on my skirt!" which can be read over on Jane's blog.

Poor Jane! And while on a date too! Oh how I was doubled over with such guffawing, my body quaking but no noise coming out. Drop after drop streamed down my face and dripped onto my robe (first) and shirt (later when I went back and read it again.)

I really don't have a scat fetish, I just never lost my adolescent humorous fascination with it.

After reading Jane's poop stories, I tried to remember some of my own. Doesn't everyone have an embarassing poop story? ( They must, if they say no, they're lying.)

I can certainly remember a couple "crap in my pants" stories, mostly from early childhood of course. As an adult, crapping my pants was more the result of fart mistakes (you know, the one you thought was air.) Once, while standing in the kitchen in my robe, spouse came up beside me and I "farted", and a smart stream of liquipoo jettison straight at the floor creating quite a splat. Spouse, without skipping a beat said, "You're cleaning that up. And you're disgusting."

I have more, but one poo story at a time (I'm sure you'll agree) is sufficient.

Feeling old

I remember a time before VCRs. The first one I ever saw was in junior high school. I think it was called a Betamax and it was roughly the size of a coffin. It was the most beautiful technological thing I had ever seen. No film! No light bulb! So many mechanical gear sounds. I think we all caressed it as we made our way into the classroom.

CDs appeared some time after VCRs. I had an eight track player, a turntable, and a cassette player in my car (when I got one) and later a portable cassette player (walkman). I still have my first walkman and it still works. My lunch box is smaller, however. I resisted the CD. I had already poured so much money into buying artists' recordings, I resented having to do it again. Now, of course, the CD is going to become obsolete what with MP3/PDA technology. At least you can rip your library.

Gourmet coffee was the biggest ripoff I remember thinking. Unless you were going to sit down and enjoy the ambiance, it was such a racket. The donut shop sold coffee for half the price! Still, status won the battle, and I too enjoy over $2 coffee regularly. But when I go back home, I stop in the old donut shop where they are still pouring a 95 cent cup of joe that rights me like nothing else.

AIDS appeared when I was a senior in high school. I was duly frightened and slightly guilty and I felt robbed because the funloving times (of which I had not yet partaken) were over. Or at least the carefree, funloving ones were. And I was just getting ready to fly, too. Funny how life is. The timing probably saved my life.

Couple of questions

Are you getting excited about Bush's big dog and pony show planned for Monday? How he's going to "push" for the gay marriage ban constitutional amendment? It's so transparent, it's ridiculous, wouldn't you agree? Gee, isn't there a congressional election looming? Didn't we try this tactic before? Is it possible to compose an entire post soley of questions?

Have you seen that even the "base" the GOP is trying to mobilize is skeptical? Can you believe that they are pouting because Bush hasn't done enough on the issue and don't want to just play his puppet again? Doesn't this seem like a (tried and true) desperate attempt to keep the GOP in power? Isn't it telling that adding an amendment to the constitution is extremely arduous and must eventually be ratified by 3/4 of states? Everybody realizes it's a ploy this time around, don't they? Are you tired of the format now?

Snippetry

* I once had a pet rooster that I was scared to death of. His name was Red.

* Can you honestly say that you are 100% happy and fulfilled? Is this even a valid question?

* Gummy cock feet.

* According to that book I just read, 72 species on the planet perish every minute. Much of this is due to rain forest destruction.

* Video Snippets I fantasized about making this week with the cellphone:

-Spouse comes home drunk

-My hemmerhoid: An in-depth look

-Dog bodily functions - this week, grass eating followed by barfing

- Talking to Quebecers: What happened to your teeth?

* Lemon-lime cave

* Can I buy unstained and untorn jeans? I picked up (but did not buy) a pair of $130 Guess jeans and it had both stains and tears. $130!

* Wicked, wicked thunderstorms Wednesday. I was in heaven.

Intelligence fails the evolutionary test

I'm reading this book right now. This guy basically looks at nature and species and makes observations about the world in which we live. Some of the more interesting points he puts forward are:

- Human beings are leading the planet to another big "die off" of species. For example, fully one third of bird species have disappeared due to man's influence on the planet. It takes 10 million years for life to rediversify after a big species die off.

- It is entirely possible that intelligence is an evolutionary trait that always extinguishes itself.

- We live in a world that we have created, and not one that we are evolutionarily adapted for. This is why people have phobias of high places and snakes and not guns and bombs. Over time, we became genetically programmed to fear those things in varying degrees because those are the traits that favored success in the species.

- Homosexuality is evolutionarily helpful in hunter gatherer societies because additional people to care for young helps more young survive. This is true in social animals that have few offspring at a time (ie: monkeys). The groups that didn't have the diversity that included homosexuality fared worse and so their genes did not make it into today's version of the human being.

- Nature probably should have picked a less aggressive and selfish animal to test its intelligence experiment.

He talks a lot about ants and termites too, there are whole sections that read like an Animal Planet episode. I'll be done with it today and take it back to the library so someone else can tickle their mind with it.