I wish all of you a heart-nourishing, brain-expanding, cosmic smirk of a year.
Archive for December, 2007|Monthly archive page
Look back at your blog – take the first sentence or two from the first post for each month of 2007 and see what you get.
OED asks for the full monty
I finally found the memory box.
I know. How mundane to write about the weather.
Went to look at a house today. Built 1952.
I didn’t get the house. [It wasn't the house from April ;)]
Fresh pineapple + fresh strawberries + 1992 Talisker = heaven.
I looked at the list of previous owners of my house and there was a German name, a Polish one, an English one and a Scottish one.
Egads, I forgot one moving story.
I watched the first season of Torchwood, courtesy of Andrew.
Google, I jest about owning my ass, but this is why you scare meâ€¦
I woke up the other morning with just the fading memory of a dream.
Thank you to the arsehole who took a look at my neatly lettered â€œNo flyers, pleaseâ€ sign before proceeding to stuff three-and-a-half inches of Christmas advertising into my mailbox.
Big house year, apparently. Idea courtesy of Melissa.
“His face disappeared. If someone has no face left, you know it’s serious.”
Choose your favourite! Fornication on a pyramid? Litres of alchohol up your arse? Jengo with a barn? All that stupid-ass humanity can do. The Darwins for 2007.
Dad’s been here and gone. The object of our reno desires this time was to remove the bulkhead in the bathroom and put in a vent. Actual steps included bashing out said bulkhead, putting in wiring for the vent, looping the ventline across the ceiling, up through the crawlspace and out through the roof, installing GFI on the bathroom outlet, putting in a new lightswitch, slapping up about 4 layers of Sheetrock 90 and finish coats with primer, installing a new shower curtain rod, and painting behind the fridge and stove (just checking that you’re paying attention – that was an extra job :)
Despite numerous passes of the shop vac and cleaning clothes, there is a patina of drywall dust throughout the house. I’ve already scrubbed the bathroom and kitchen on my hands and knees, but the rest can wait until tomorrow.
Melle came by last night for a family dinner of lasagna that she made lovingly from scratch. It was soooo good.
Crazy part is that we still have to retile the bathroom, replace the sink, and put in a new floor before I can call this little project done. Until then, not only do I have baby blue swirly tiles with pepto-pink walls, I also have swaths of primer white across the ceiling. It’s, … “festive”.
If you feel a coldsore coming on, zap it with some scotch and it’ll go away. A 10-year Talisker seems to do the job nicely.
I didn’t want to taint the joy of a Diva lunch with the news of Benazir Bhutto. I’m not informed enough to do the political commentary. I know she represented a forward-looking and moderate culture for Pakistan. That she represented the largest party in that country meant hope for many of us that that place could come out better. Not surprising, her people are devastated.
Two thoughts for me:
- She was a woman. In a culture that is very male-dominated, she strode forward and stood tall. She represented women who are still pushing boundaries, a direct line to female activists in the West, but always here public persona was in some way nurturing. Many have already cited her womanhood as a contributing factor to her death. People talk about the supreme sacrifice she made, to leave her own children behind to try to save the children of her country. So, I mourn her as a woman.
- She was a politician. Through and through. We cannot forget that her self-imposed exile was under a cloud of scandal, and really, what else defines a politician these days? She managed to take the helm of a huge political power, used her intelligence and bargaining skills in backroom deals that the likes of us will never know. Had the backbone to enter the political arena and speak out against her foes – played with the big boys – and she paid the price for it. Regardless of her sex, she was a politician in her character, and with all of the bad and the good that it entailed.
You know, we mock our own system, wherein it seems like it doesn’t really matter which party is in power, we kinda just move along. The Merkans would say that all parties in Canada are lefty socialists. Some of us vote, but a good many don’t. We get more upset about Ron McLean getting booted from Hockey Night in Canada than we do about political scandal. How absolutely f*cking lucky we are.
We had our annual Diva curry yesterday at Diana’s in Guelph, minus one (and you know who you are).
Gifts were exchanged (Diva socks, pashminas, tea), pleasantries and guffaws were exchanged, and Christmases were summed up.
I managed to put my foot in it, much to the delight of all present. My one friend may be an impending fiance and we were talking about popping the question on important days such as Christmas, or one’s birthday or what have you:
S: Well, some people stay away from the important days so that… [brain kicks in]
All: So that what?
S: Um, so that when you divorce, it doesn’t taint the day, not that I’m talking about you, of course. I, er, meant staTIStically. I tried to stop myself but it was too late!
All: snorting. Much laughter.
I really didn’t mean it specifically :)
Thankfully I was able to change the topic to Gene Simmons Family Jewels, and crunking. Then there was a terrible riff on a WWLD sockmonkey that may materialize in time for our next get-together. My friends r3wk.
Trees and lights
They’re showing the ep of Wonder Woman where she and Steve Trevor (first ever Playgirl centrefold – did you know that?) end up in the Bermuda Triangle with the psycho Manta who has a crazy ray in a lighthouse and a submarine to take down the American navy.
Anyway, Diana needs to tell her Mom that they’re going in because they might inadvertently harm the hidden island of the Amazons, so she rubs the star on her crown and her Mom appears in the mirror. How did I forget this stuff? I know I used to dress up as Wonder Woman (though I always wore a cape because I thought her ensemble was lacking some dramatic drapery), but I never rubbed my star!
And then, when they crash land, somehow Diana’s skirt is mangled so she ends up with a pair of shorts that peak at the crotch – kinda like her super shorts. Anyway, they eventually get caught and Diana escapes and twirls into Wonder Woman and runs through the forest to the docs to the “Wonder Woman” theme (and I know all 70s theme music sounds like a bad porno track, but her jiggles seem to go really well the jaggles, if you know what I mean).
And THEN, she gets to the dock, fends off some bullets and scares away some bad guys and twirls again into the WONDER WOMAN AQUA SUIT. Aqua suit, I shit you not! It was awesome.
Later she climbed some trees and lassoed Manta. They got away before the island blew up. Steve still doesn’t know that Diana is Wonder Woman.