Archive for July, 2006|Monthly archive page

As long as I end up on top

Thursday, July 20th, 2006

A friend of mine started me reading Rob Brezny’s horoscope thing years ago, primarily because of cheeky content.

This week’s:

The Hebrew word “shalom” is both a hello infused with a goodbye and a goodbye leavened with a hello. That’s why it would be wise and fun for you to make it your word of power in the coming days. You’ll be spinning through a transitional zone in which it won’t always be clear which direction is up. You’ll be coming and going simultaneously, embarking on new journeys and ending old ones. Whenever you say “shalom,” whether it’s a greeting to someone else or a mantra uttered in solitude, you’ll remind yourself that the threshold you’re in is pregnant with a thousand possibilities.

Life in the Middle East/We Wish You Peace

Thursday, July 20th, 2006

It’s very hard from my safe home in Canada to talk about the Middle East with any kind of authority. I know that aggression on all sides seems wrong and hurtful, and that every action feels like a powder keg that is too close to going off.

When I picture life over there, I think of people just trying to have a life. Whether they are the majority or the minority, I really don’t know. But imagine bombs and shells and death being outside your front door all of the time, with a culture of hatred all around you.

It’s important, particularly for us in the West, to hear all kinds of stories, diverse points of view and even jingoistic generalisms before we can begin to engage the people who are living through this.

Blogs from Iraq.
Blogs from Lebanon.
Blogs from Israel.

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Update, courtesy of youtube:

Watch Joe (jocavc) first: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SlkPXClXBIE. Then watch jpwipf from Montana: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NoeWtOZNVbE&NR. Maybe not the most polished fellows in the world, but sometimes humility and a simple thought are more noble.

We wish you peace.

The ole ice cube

Monday, July 17th, 2006

JL continues his pampering demands. I am now putting an ice cube in his water every couple of hours, for his drinking pleasure.

Granted, it is about 30 degrees in my house, and he is a hirsute type of person/animal, but still: where’s my servant to feed me ice cubes???

Um, ew!

Friday, July 14th, 2006

I was flipping channels the other night, and there was a show on about “Real ER Stories” or something like that. Not something I watch, but they were showing a woman’s head close up AND THERE WERE BUBBLES COMING OUT OF HER SCALP.

Then, the voiceover pipes up and says And they insisted that there were BUGS under her SCALP. What? Hooked now, I had to see what the hell they were talking about. The re-enactment is cut in by the actual ER Doctor who was there, and he has this look of bemused grossed-outedness on his face.

Then, he SEES A WORM-LIKE BUG COMING OUT OF A HOLE IN HER SCALP. Forceps at the ready, he pulls out THREE OF THEM.

The couple blamed it on a trip to Costa Rica. Whatever. She had worms in her head!!!

I googled “worms in scalp” for you, just to see if this is possible. Reading the top 10 matches has given me the heebie-jeebies. Suffice to say, this is probably true. Google it yourself if you want to go there. I’m not going back.

Moses Martin on a cracker

Tuesday, July 11th, 2006

Do NOT click this link without scotch in hand:

The Complete Bushisms on slate.com

A few great men

Tuesday, July 11th, 2006

Mark Morford. Joss Whedon.

Smart sexy funny cool curious articulate conversant.

I love them.

http://sfgate.com/cgi-bin/blogs/sfgate/sso_detail?blogid=3&entry_id=6741

Divas do lunch

Sunday, July 9th, 2006

Had a lovely lunch at a bistro on Eglinton with most of the divas today (and one budding diva who is 3 1/2 months old). Biggest omelette I’ve seen in a while.

It’s strange to think that this core group of friends, with whom I share anything and everything, came out of a workplace. We have friendship forged in dot com dramatics, but I don’t think we fully discovered it until after we were no longer there. Different temperaments, different stages in life, different backgrounds, but somehow it all works.

When talk ranges from the frustrations of dating, to the bewilderment of motherhood, to Internet stalkers, to politics, religion, family resemblances, lingerie, shoes, jobs, break-ups, cities, homes and hangovers, you know you’re on to something good.

Authorial intervention

Sunday, July 9th, 2006

I am a dream manager. Don’t know if it’s my Type A personality or a really good problem-solving mechanism, but I often “steer” my dreams.

Sometimes, that means exploring multiple endings to see what happens – in one, I might get caught by the nameless/faceless people who are chasing me and then it’s all torture and such. So, I’ll try the dream again only this time I hide out and they miss me and I escape; or I’ll stand up and fight and get a little bloody but kick their asses in the end.

Last night, the dream was about a wedding, and the bride (a friend, who, as far as I know, is NOT getting married) was getting no satisfaction out of the place where the rehearsal dinner was being held. The first time through, the dinner was a fiasco and she was extremely disappointed. The second time through, I sat with her at the table and we discussed options. The third time through, I worked with the owner of the establishment to fix all of the problems and she had a lovely time. I still haven’t seen the groom, but I’ll assume he’s happy if she’s happy.

ESP?

Friday, July 7th, 2006

I was sitting in the waiting area at the car dealer. One of the mechanics is at a desk, borrowing the computer. The service manager is at her desk, and another mechanic comes around the corner and she asks the service manager, “Dare I ask the usual question?”

I knew the service manager was going to say that he (someone) was upstairs. And she did.

While this was going on, I was reading a book that I’ve never read before, and the paragraph was about a young Jewish woman visiting a pawn broker after the war to get back her family’s jewels. The broker is going to try to placate her, so she offers her some pastries.

I knew the next sentence was going to say that the young Jewish woman was onto the pawn broker, and that she would gobble up as many pastries as possible. And I read on, and she did.

Then the feeling went away. Why couldn’t I get more useful information? like a lotto number or something?

Dancerlude

Friday, July 7th, 2006

Bless the blinds that block me from my neighbours. Especially when I am dancing around my living room to the likes of Sweet Caroline (buh-BUH-ba-ba).