Archive for August, 2008|Monthly archive page

Hot lovin’

Saturday, August 30th, 2008

In the morning on my street, the sun first kisses my front porch and gardens, more than my neighbours, who have trees and whatnot providing shade well into the day.

I went out to get the newspaper from the bottom of the drive, and I was appreciating the blue skies and the sun on my flowers, when I noticed that were lots of black spots on my front steps and across the front of my house.

I got closer to see what was going on. It was flies. I’m talking large, juicy black houseflies all over the front of my house. And they were fornicating. There were hundreds of flies getting it off on my porch, in the sunlight.

When I checked back again about 20 minutes later, they were gone.

Finding me a richie

Friday, August 29th, 2008

My uncle from the North has descended upon my home and my father is here. My plumbing stack has been removed and replaced, but I’ll tell you all about that later.

More importantly, Pretty In Pink is on tv right now. Shellshock came on because Duckie is in angst and hung over and so not stalking Andie.

Hold on. It’s never enough. It’s never enough until your heart stops bleeding…

So true. So true.

I have a sudden urge to get out the sewing machine and turn an old bridesmaid dress into a prom gown. Now all I need is a Blane.


Monday, August 25th, 2008

The bride was beautiful, the groom was gracious and the guests were drunk.

Melle and I made it to the ceremony just in time. We were in the non-Catholic crowd so we just went along with it when they stood up and sat down and stood up and sat down. The priest was an elderly German fellow who apparently like some of the lyrics to the hymns because every once in a while, he’d start singing along with the real singer (who was fabulous btw).

Because the ceremony was at 11am and the reception didn’t start until 5pm, we went out for lunch with K and her husband by our “luxury” hotel. Pizza and a daiquiri – yum. I’m pretty sure that L was worrying that he was in for a long night of diva talk and hanging out with the “girls”, but we started to gel over the food and my impending visit from one of my northern uncles who is bringing his chainsaw and has requested that I stock up on vodka… and this is to do some “plumbing”.

Melle and I availed ourselves of the big bed and soft headboard for a nap, only after taking pictures of our marble spa bathroom.

Then Melle got herself into some German engineered super-bra that was required to ensure that the girls didn’t migrate out of the diva dress was wearing, and I got into some spanx kind of gitch and tried to rein in the ringlets.

All four of us stuffed ourselves into a rather tiny cab at the same time that the Blue Jays game was getting out. L is a big guy who was sporting a wool suit (he looked awesome) and we were going about 10 feet a minute, and it was hot. After ranting about “being in the only cab in Toronto with A/C” and comparing how far the sweat had migrated down our butt-cracks, the driver finally clued in and put it on, which improved things considerably.

Until we got to the venue. It was a rowing club with a nice big balcony overlooking the lake, but there was no A/C and it was about 30 degrees, so we were all a bit melty for the first little bit. But bride Helen, who is very smart, had fans handed out to the guests as they arrived. Even the guys were doing their best Karl Lagerfeld.

The good thing is that it started to cool down as soon as the sun moved over, and the food was awesome, and the speeches went really well – there were some awesome things said in German, which we didn’t understand, so we just kept on toasting.

Bride and groom were really pleased to welcome people from all over the place, too. They both like to travel, so I’m sure they were taking names for places that they will be visiting in the near future. And the parents were adorable and proud and happy. It was an Irish-German-Spanish love-in.

And that led to all kinds of shenanigans. I was doing okay after the champagne and wine with rye and water, Melle and the others had moved on to gin, but then L and I got talking and we decided that it was really important that we have some scotch. Good scotch. After unsuccessfully trying to convince the bar staff that we should be able to pay for a bottle, I brought out the big guns: the bride.

One nod from her and I was perusing the scotch list and waving L’s credit card and lining up a few glasses. I was greeted with high fives on the patio, let me tell you. I’m waiting to see just how much a bottle of 12-year Bowmore costs at retail :) While I proceeded to tuck into about 5 of those, Melle got it into her head that it would be good to drink vodka and Red Bull. Then there was dancing and we got to hang out with the bride and groom a bit and I think I grinded a random gf of one of the guests. C showed up somewhere in there and we read her the riot act since we haven’t seen her in person for over a year – but I think she’ll mend her ways.

There was some German folk dancing and Irish jigging and an unplanned undie-flash (not me). Lots of smiling faces and people talking and all of the good stuff that goes along with a really great party.

We got up the next morning and were planning to go to Cora’s across the street for some much-needed grease, but the line-up was out the door, so we ended up eating at the posh-posh restaurant in the hotel. It was a kind of buffet, from which I could only manage a few strips of bacon, some fruit and a small muffin. Actual cost: enough to buy the farm on which the fruit was grown and a pig.

Drive home was uneventful and rather quiet (and Melle drove and she’s a goddess). It is a truism that there is such a thing as too many ryes and scotches, and a very definite thing that vodka and Red Bull is not a recommended source of vitamins. And old chicks like us? We need time to recover. We were emailing each other today with ratings on the tired scale – can’t remember my login, nodding off in a meeting, unable to competently articulate words longer than 3 syllables…

Bride and groom are now in Hawaii, and I certainly hope they’re sleeping.

Few things to remain un-named…

Friday, August 22nd, 2008

There wasn’t an option to talk about how many books sleep on the other side of the bed, or the fact that the cat takes over my pillows and indicates when it’s time to get up by head-butting me and then purring when I give him a look of death.

What Your Bed Says About You

Outward appearances are a concern of yours, but not your primary concern. You try to take care of yourself and your home, but it’s not an obsession.

You are an organized and disciplined person. You do the right thing because you want to, not because people expect you to.

You are not very high maintenance in general, but you are high maintenance about a few things.

In relationships, you tend to be quite dominant. You enjoy taking charge.

You tend to be a dreamy, head in the clouds type of person. You think in terms of possibilities.

You are a bit of a homebody, but you can also make yourself at home anywhere.

There’s traditions, and then there’s traditions

Friday, August 22nd, 2008

I don’t believe that I will be nekkid after tomorrow’s wedding. But there was a real ‘streak’ there in the 90s when this became the only appropriate ending to nuptials in my circle.  Sure we had been playing strip euchre for a few years in our small group, but when we were invited back to a co-workers house after my roommate got married, and that house had a pool, we knew it was time to go to the next level.

The group gathered at the pool was a motley mix of university friends, wedding party members, straights, gays and significant others. I’m not sure if I was the first one to start the stripping, but I do remember getting a friend to pull my bridesmaid dress off from the bottom up, so to speak, while I was bent over so that my derriere was facing a group of men drinking beer on the patio. I flung the dress into the bushes and then dove into the pool. Soon there were nekkid people floating around in old tires and floaty chairs and I think someone was wearing nothing but a pool noodle.

Forward to the next wedding (just so happened to be the girl that helped me remove my apparel at the first one). Huge catholic family with the ceremony to go with it. Many had flown in from Northwest Territories and they were all staying at this hotel on the outskirts of town on the corner of a busy road going east-west and the main road north out of town. The pool at this hotel was situated on the outside corner of the parking lot, so cars going in both directions could eyeball the swimmers if they chose to. After the reception, we made a beeline to that pool like we were on a mission. I don’t know if it was the intimidation of a public viewing or the possible censure of 28 roman catholics from the far north, but only a brave four of us were up to the challenge. One of my best friends, his gf, and a teacher friend of ours.

In our drunken troll logic, we conceived of the idea that it would be good to disrobe in behind the main building and leave our clothing there, streak across the lot, jump the fence and then dive in. It was 3 o’clock in the morning or so, so all we’d run into were possibly the relatives…

Mission into the pool was no problem. We had several northern uncles leaning on the fence trying to carry on a conversation while not looking at the bits on display. But then one of the aunts got wind of the entertainment and called the manager, who proceeded to try to chase us from the pool with a broom. So we’re doggy paddling in the middle and dude is banging a broom along the side of the pool like we were a wildlife specimen who happened upon this thing that looked like a cement pond and decided to go for a swim.

When that didn’t work, the manager called the cops. Thing is, if the teacher friend got caught sans gitch, then he’d need to be calling a union rep because he’d be facing teacherly laws regarding public indecency or something, so we knew we had to move.

Now, jumping naked out of pool while being chased by a hotel manager with a broom, and hopping a fence with a cruiser barreling into the parking lot with lights and navigating to the back of the hotel while dodging 28 roman catholics from NWT AND putting on your underwear, all while thinking with the logic of a drunken troll is a bit of an art.

I got caught up trying to get a leg in a leghole and did a faceplant onto some asphalt. At that point, survival instinct kicked in so I threw on the dress and sprinted to the road with undies in hand. The couple went one way and teacher guy followed me. At this point, he was wearing his underwear and an open dress shirt, carrying his tie & pants and shoes.

I looked up and saw an 18-wheeler bearing down on us from the north. I stuck out my thumb (I might have waved my underwear, but we don’t have the replay to know for sure). And dude picked us up! Drove us right downtown where we passed out blissfully “as we were”. We were relieved to find out the next day that the other two got away from the fuzz, too.

So that was the third time I almost got arrested. Weddings – what can you do?

What’s the news?

Tuesday, August 19th, 2008

Pretty good day for Canada today – 4 more medals. We’ve now exceeded our total for Athens. Phew!

Some Olympics stories of the day:

  • Priscilla Lopes-Schliep was never in the spotlight here on the track scene. We were focused on Perdita and others. This woman came out of nowhere to take the bronze for Canada in 100m hurdles in an exciting photo finish. When she ran in Athens, she didn’t make it out of the heats.
  • Mattias Steiner of Germany wins weightlifting gold. He was in the process of becoming a German citizen just at his wife’s request when she died in a car accident. He became a citizen anyway and won the gold medal for her.
  • One of the competitors in the weightlifting competition is also a Member of Parliament in Latvia. I’m trying to picture Bob Rae on the mat – the tights are easy, but the weights part seems a bit of a stretch. Harper would be looking for someone to bonk on the head with a dumbell, and Dion would be whining that Stephen got all the good stuff.
  • Men’s triathlon was crazy.  Simon Whitfield of Canada powered forward to take the lead on the last lap coming up from fourth to first, but he lost the lead with something like 100m to go. Gah.

I walked for 2 hours yesterday. I felt so “athletic”.

A tipsy birthday greeting…

Monday, August 18th, 2008

to myself.

Just had a lovely dinner with Melle and Andrew, including complimentary champers. Excellent presents as well.

You know, I kinda hang out by myself quite a bit when I get the chance, and then I log in and there’s dozens of birthday greetings from people all over the place, and I get a warm fuzzy (and I don’t think it’s the wine).

I love you guys! (drunken slobbery hugs all around).

That is my baby’s father.

Sunday, August 17th, 2008

Japanese dictionary of American slang.

This is awesome.

Magic aunt

Sunday, August 17th, 2008

My mom, her husband, my sister and her husband and my niece and nephew came to visit today. Mom and husband arrived on his new (old) bike and my mother was all gussied up in her new motorcycle jacket and pants. It was her first multi-hour trip and she seems to have survived without much in the way of bugs on the helmet or bike-crotch.

Anyway, I though it might be a good idea to take everyone over to Victoria Park so the kids could play in the waterpark there. We parked on my old street and I was a bit puzzled because the street was full of cars. Got to the park, and there was a whole “Kids Fest” going on, and I was complimented for my ability to conjure up a whole festival complete with thousand of kids – just for them!

We divided up the duties – my mom and I watched the nephew in the water for a while, then he went in a big bouncy thing, and then there was a boxing demonstration. The coach lined up about 5 kids of which nephew was the biggest. At the end were 2 little girls, and the youngest one looked exactly like Cindy-Lou Who if she had boxing gloves on up to her elbows. So, coach asked them to pummel him until they couldn’t pummel no more. Nephew gave it a good shot with grunts and power snaps. Get to little girl #1 and she fast hands the best girlie slaps with gloves I’ve ever seen. Then it’s Cindy-Lou’s turn. She pokes and pokes, curls flying,  but she didn’t get anywhere near the coach or anything else, other than her own head. Her mother was laughing so hard she almost couldn’t take any pictures.

Next we wondered down the path and there was fire truck, with HAWT firemen. I thought about primping my hair but then I realized that they were gonna think that nephew was mine anyway. While we were waiting in line for a tour of the truck, Rogers Television showed up. So, if you see me on tv, I’m the woman who’s oggling some of K-W’s finest whilst protectively hugging my nephew to my knees. I think my mom had to remind me to move forward.

Now, if that’s not enough magic for one day, we wandered over to the RIM Science Island and we got to make a rocket out of a water bottle and they put it on a launch pad and ours went up about 20 feet – it was awesome.

My niece had been at the Arts & Crafts area this whole time, making herself a fancy hat. After that we switched up and my mom and I supervised her making an excellent play-doh penguin while the nephew worked on some oversized erector sets with his mom.

My mom’s husband had been missing all of this time, and when we found him, he’d already had a nap somewhere on the far bank.

Kids procured cotton candy and then it was back to my house and then off to Swiss Chalet to eat an early meal with the old people so that everyone could get back on the road.

Oh, and I got presents!

Brilliant moments, great and small

Saturday, August 16th, 2008

First off, Canada got 3 medals today – finally! Carol Huynh may be tiny, but she can whip your ass. You have to watch the footage of her flipping her opponent onto her back for a big score. So much to like about this story – parents immigrated from Viet Nam for a better life, she had only 2 senior championships and she defeated a world and Olympic champion. When asked about her victory, Carol said, “I knew I wanted to go in with supreme confidence in my abilities and not doubting myself one second. That’s what I did, and I wrestled the match of my life, and it was awesome.”

An article in the The Post says that the majority of Canadians are more interested in the competition and doing our best than in bravado and single-minded focus on winning, but her chutzpah is what got her that medal. And she cried while the anthem was played – gets me every time.

Of course, kudos also to Scott Frandsen & Dave Calder (silver, rowing) and Tonya Verbeek (bronze, wrestling).


And did you see this penguin who was knighted by Norway? Honestly, with the high-necked saunter and the inspection of the guard, I’m not sure you can tell the difference between him and the royal family.


Also, it’s Madonna’s 50th. I think I can freely admit that she’s been a soundtrack of my life – there’s been more bum-shakin’, drinking, sexing, aerobics, relaxing, singing in the living room and naked euchre to Ms Madge than just about anyone else. You’d think I was a 6 ft tall trannie from New York or something. There’s a hilarious story with my belt buckle and “Justify My Love” that I can’t say much more about. Ask Tiger.