Letters from Misanthropia

Temporary Cure for Boredom

2010-01-09T07:48:00.000-08:00

It is said that idle hands are the devil's workshop.

I don't think of mine so much as a workshop but more

of a recreational center. I am far too lazy to live up to

the title of workshop.

Recently, a friend of mine sent me an interesting project

via facebook. Yes, yes...you may snicker all you like - I

was coerced into signing up for facebook.

Anyway, this project was just what I needed to alleviate

my boredom and have a few chuckles in the process.

Here is how it works:

Go to Wikipedia and hit Random Article

The title of that article is the name of your new band.

Go to Wikiquote and hit Random Page

Scan down to the last quote on the page. The last

three to five words of that quote become the title

of your first album.

Go to Flickr and click on Last 7 Days. The

third picture - no matter what it is - is your

album cover.

Use Photoshop or some other photo editing program

to put it all together and then you post it on facebook,

tag your friends with the picture and try to get them to

do the same.

Interesting, fun, and probably a lot better than most of the

bands out there.

Give it a try - let me know how it turns out.

You will find mine (Plan Z) and a good friend of mine's below -

just to give you an example.

Enjoy.

Random Facts

2009-12-29T07:34:00.001-08:00

Hmph.

Three months without a post.

Depression is a wonderful thing, is it not?

I have little to write about and even less to amuse

you with. So instead, I offer you random facts about myself.

First a useful fact - then something completely random.

(but all true)

Okay? Here we go.

Fact:

I do not have a middle name.

Random:

Left to my own devices, I will usually read.

Fact:

I am 40 years of age (41 in 2 weeks)

Random:

I have never been off the North American continent.

Fact:

I am allergic to general anesthetic which classifies me as malignant hyperthermic.

Random:

I am nervous in large crowds of people.

Fact:

I am married, but have no children.

Random:

Given my choice of how I want my steak prepared, I will normally say 'blue'.

Fact:

I have one sibling - an older sister.

Random:

I look horrid in yellow, pink or purple.

Fact:

I own more watches than all of my friends put together.

Random:

My baby toes do not touch the ground.

Fact:

I've been married for 14 years.

(to the same man!!!)

Random:

I think bacon makes anything taste better.

Fact:

I am owned by three cats.

Random:

I sing in the shower.

Fact:

I prefer action movies to chick movies.

Random:

I am easily moved to tears.

(could be the reason for the fact above...I dunno)

Fact:

I hold no firm religious beliefs save that organized religion and organized crime are the same thing...only one has better clothes.

Random:

I am terrified of spiders.

Fact:

I am a caffeine addict.

Random:

I have never been able to get the hang of a yo-yo.

There...

At least it's something.

Now I have to try to remember to update this thing more often.

No Harm, No Fowl

2009-10-12T08:14:00.001-07:00

Today is Thanksgiving here in Canada.

Normally I would be cooking a turkey, baking pies,
preparing vegetables and all the other things that
go along with the holiday.

This year though - things are different. With The Man
out of work, and me working for less money and less
hours in retail, the coffers are pretty light around here.

Money spent on a big fancy turkey dinner are more
wisely left in the bank for things like hydro and the gas
bill.

It's sad - but I am determined not to let it get me down.

I have much to be thankful for - even if I do it over
hot dogs instead of turkey.

My family, my friends, my health and my home.
(well, my home for now at least)

I am also thankful for losing my former job. Sounds weird,
but it's true. I never realized how unhappy I was until I
was forced out of there. I miss my co-workers and friends
within the company, but I sure don't miss going into that
soul-sucking environment anymore.

But I digress.

Happiest of Thanksgiving to all my friends and family and
to those just passing by. May you also have much to be
thankful for.

Eenie, Meanie, Minie, Moron

2009-10-05T08:10:00.000-07:00

There are times, I find, that I have to ponder the
intelligence of the general populace. Being a card-
carrying member of the human race, I believe I have
every right to question other members on their
outright stupidity.

This morning as I watched the news, I heard a story
about these two schmucks... some knuckle-dragging
morons, who decided it would be a hoot to sneak into
the Calgary Zoo after hours and get into the tiger cage.

Let's see.

Here are some interesting facts about tigers:

They are the largest member of the cat family;
an average adult male weighing in at a mere
660 pounds.

Tigers are fierce, carnivorous predators and are
very territorial.

They have powerfully built legs and shoulders,
giving them the ability to pull down prey substantially
heavier than themselves. (that's 660 lbs...remember?)

Their prey of choice is buffalo, wild boar and other mid
to large size mammals. When prey is scarce, they will
kill other large cats such as leopards. (jeez...!) There have
been documented cases of tigers killing a full sized
rhinoceros.

Tiger jaws can snap shut at 900 lbs/psi.
(holy sh*t!)

They have tremendously large, powerful paws- all
equipped with five razor-sharp retractable claws ranging
from 80 to 100 cm in length.

Tigers see in the dark. Very, very well.

Now, after relating all that, I have a few questions for the
above mentioned addle-pates:

1) how much did you have to drink before this
started to sound like a good idea?
2) do you understand that you are allowed to
say NO when someone dares you to do
something stupid?
3) what did you THINK was going to happen?
4) were you dropped on your heads as children?

Honestly, I think the gene pool is in serious need
of some heavy duty chlorine. I seriously wish
that the tiger had castrated these two oafs.

Had I been there, I'd have cheered the tiger on -
perhaps even going so far as to spray these mental
deficients with gravy or ketchup to make them
more appetizing.

Go, Tigers!

(click the pretty kitty for the story)

Humor Me

2009-09-09T09:12:00.000-07:00

I was afforded a rare treat recently.

The Man downloaded a stand-up performance of
Billy Connolly the other night.
(completely legally, of course. ~cough, cough~)

It's title is 'Was It Something I Said' - and I highly
recommend it to anyone and everyone I know.

Connolly is truly one of the funniest men I have ever
seen. His humor is simple, effective and downright
hilarious.

He also shares some of my views on things like religion
and music.

Observe.

Thyme and Punishment

2009-08-28T22:04:00.001-07:00

Why does every slightly different occupation seem to have a
special-interest television program now? Are we really that
desperate for entertainment?

Ice Road Truckers, Cake Boss, Coffee House Kings, Loggers,
Deadliest Catch.

The list goes on and on...and on.

I'm waiting for the likes of:
Meter Maids - A Scooter, A Skirt and an Attitude;
or Pimp My Yard - Landscapers, Lawns and Lunacy.

Seriously - it is going to get that bad.

It's got to stop.

Although I don't watch a great deal of television anymore,
I do like a few of the newer crime and investigation series.
The Mentalist and Bones, for example.

So - I've come up with my own idea: Let's combine an
investigative series with a dumb catering/cooking show
and have:

♪♫ dum-ta-da-daaaah ♪♫

Law and Hors D'ouvres - Crime, Cops and Caviar.

Somebody call the Fox Network...I think I've got a hit.

Believe it or not, it really does say 'Crime, Punishment, Food'

And they said Latin wouldn't come in handy.

Pfffft.

It Ads Up

2009-07-30T08:46:00.000-07:00

I know that recently I ranted on about a stupid commercial.

Commercials are necessary; I understand this.
How else are we as consumers going to learn the wonders of
the Sham-Wow, Kentucky Fried Chicken's mashed potatoes,
Microwavable milk shakes (yes...it's true), and assorted other
products that we couldn't possibly live another moment
without?

Personally, I don't mind commercials so long as they do not
insult my intelligence or assault me with irritating sounds,
infectious songs (Hotwire, you can go to Hell!) or just
plain banality.

Here is a commercial I saw not that long ago that I find not
only amusing, but very well done. Not only that, but it's for
the best beer on the planet.

Baa-a-a-a-d Company

2009-07-25T08:17:00.000-07:00

Do you have what it takes to follow blindly, regardless of what
is going on around you?

Can you turn your head and ignore obvious favoritism, questionable
practices, nepotism, and a blatant disregard for fair treatment of
employees?

If so, We Want You!

We will reward you with crappy hours, strict rules (which you
can break if you get to be one of the precious favored few),
a laughable incentive program and of course, all the stress you
can force yourself to swallow.

If you can do your job quietly, without asking any questions,
without making any waves, just keeping your eyes on the asshole
in front of you - then you have the makings of an exemplary
employee.

It's sheeple like you that make our job easier.

Come.
Join our Team.

And, just for fun - some very appropriate lyrics:
do yourself a favor and check out the song, too.

SHEEP - Pink Floyd (click it for awesomeness)

Harmlessly passing your time in the grassland away;
Only dimly aware of a certain unease in the air.
You'd better watch out!
There may be dogs about
I looked over Jordan, and I've seen
Things are not what they seem.

That's what you get for pretending the danger's not real.
Meek and obedient you follow the leader
Down well trodden corridors into the valley of steel.
What a surprise!
A look of terminal shock in your eyes.
Now things are really what they seem.
No, this is not a bad dream.

The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want
He makes me down to lie
Through pastures green He leadeth me the silent waters by.
With bright knives He releaseth my soul.
He maketh me to hang on hooks in high places.
He converteth me to lamb cutlets,
For lo, He hath great power, and great hunger.
When cometh the day we lowly ones,
Through quiet reflection, and great dedication
Master the art of karate,
Lo, we shall rise up,
And then we'll make the bugger's eyes water.

Bleating and babbling we fell on his neck with a scream.
Wave upon wave of demented avengers
March cheerfully out of obscurity into the dream.

Have you heard the news?
The dogs are dead!
You better stay home
And do as you're told.
Get out of the road if you want to grow old.

Dining in 'Style'

2009-07-01T05:58:00.000-07:00

While watching TV this morning, I saw a television commercial
for Pizza Hut in which a family are blindfolded and then are
'taken to an Italian restaurant'.

We are supposed to believe that this 'family' is driven around for
a little while and then returned to their own home to be served
Pizza Hut's new Tuscani Restaurant-Style Pasta Selections.
Of course, they're all stunned to realize that they are in their
own home and eating take-out from a pizza joint.

I have several problems with this commercial.

One: I've had just about enough blindfolding in commercials.
If you want to impress me with someone wearing a blindfold,
it better come with a last cigarette and a firing squad.

Two: These people are returned to their own home.
WHAT?
How incredibly dense do you have to be to not even recognize the
sounds, smells and feel of your own abode?? They look shocked to
find themselves sitting at their own dining room table - same
uncomfortable chairs...same height to the table. These people are
frickin' morons.

Three: Tuscani Restaurant-Style Pasta selections. Hmmm...
Let's see here.
Restaurant-style dishes...FROM A RESTAURANT!!!! I should
freakin'-well hope so!!!
Gah!

I hate commercials...I really do.

I was in a good mood earlier - now, I'm just pissed off.

Restaurant-style....pfffft.

What a Mangled Web We Weave

2009-06-10T09:59:00.000-07:00

So, here I was...washing my hair in the shower this morning when
I happened to look up at the ceiling.

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaack!!!"

Big, spindly-legged spider!

How I hate spiders! They creep me out and give me all sorts
of heebie-jeebies. I know it's ridiculous to be afraid of something
one thousandth of my size. It's a completely irrational fear - and
yet, it is very real.

My hair still full of shampoo, I am now afraid to put my head under
the water and close my eyes for fear that when I open them again
it will be dangling in my face.

As I watched it with revulsion and terror, I noticed that it was
having difficulty making its way across the ceiling due to the
condensation from the steam of the shower.

An idea struck me.

I turned up the hot water.
Steam rose up in billows.

The hideous creature began to scrabble more frantically - its
disgusting legs desperately trying to cling to the wet surface of
the ceiling.

Suddenly, it fell.

Fuck.
Hadn't thought of that.

I leaped back, watching the thing curl up into a wet, broiled ball
in the bottom of the tub.

HA! Take that, foul beast!!

"OWWWW!!!....OWW-OWW-Hot-hot-hot!!!"

Boiling hot water was now scalding my skin - and shampoo was
stinging my eyes.

Small price to pay for victory.

Nature: 0 Lynn: 1

Spiders....gah.

Whine List

2009-06-08T07:43:00.000-07:00

I get so tired of the conflicting reports from so-called 'experts' claiming
that such-and-such is good for you, or this is bad for you...or this causes
cancer, this cures cancer...and this - this'll make your nose fall off!

I just finished watching a report on the morning news about the argument
over red wine.

Now, I like red wine. It's got more flavour and more body
than white wine and it compliments most things well...
(particularly Oreos - but let's not go there).

I'm not fooling anyone however, when it comes to the
reasons why I drink red wine. I'm not trying to improve
my health or my oxidant levels...I'm enjoying a glass
(or two) of wine. I couldn't give a rat's ass if it was good
for me or not.

Frankly, I have always found that things that are supposedly
'good for me' tend not to taste so good. Okra comes to mind
....bleh.

Anyway...apparently red wine really IS good for you, provided
you're drinking several thousand litres. Good news for winos,
not so good for your average glass-a-day type.

According to the latest studies, the 'red wine is good for you'
thing is just a myth. One more thing we can chalk up to good
advertising and bad science.

I was happier in my ignorance, I think. Even though I didn't
drink wine for it's supposed health benefits, it still used to give
me a little bit of a happy feeling knowing I was doing something
good for my body. Kind of like eating a chocolate coated granola
bar. The goodness is there - it's just buried under all that yummy
sweet stuff.

Ah well - so much for the illusions of bad habits being good for you.

Next thing I know, they'll be telling me that cigarettes don't have
Vitamin C in them.

read the article

One of Those Days...

2009-06-04T08:05:00.000-07:00

I have been alternating between two songs lately on my way to work.

1) Break Stuff by Limp Bizkit

and

2) I Hate My Life by Theory of a Deadman

Don't you just love how you can find songs to relate to?

To Bee or Not to Bee

2009-05-29T09:14:00.000-07:00

My headspace is cluttered with so much crap.

Sometimes I wonder how I even manage to
function on a daily basis.
I think most of what I do is programmed into 'auto-pilot
'...at least, that's what I'm hoping. Because when I
occasionally have the time to take mental inventory, I am
shocked and appalled by the amount of useless
garbage I find rattling around up there.

BUT - every once in a while, one of those useless
things comes in handy. Kind of like that piece of
copper wire in the bottom of your junk drawer.

The other day at work I was having a conversation
with someone I'm not overly fond of, but for civility's
sake, I remain on amicable speaking terms.

Sadly, I don't remember what we were discussing - only
that I had said that something was impossible. This guy
then starts chirping at me, saying 'Nothing is impossible. If a bumblebee can fly, which is an aerodynamic impossibility, then anything can happen."

Gee...thanks, Hallmark.

Suddenly, facts from days gone by started flooding from all
corners of my brain!

"Actually," I said, "that is a common myth propagated from the
faulty analogy between bees and conventional fixed-wing aircraft.
It became a catch-phrase of every wannabe self-help guru and
pocket-lining pulpit banger who had the audacity to use it without
researching the facts!

Bees' wings are small relative to their bodies. If an airplane were
built the same way, it'd never get off the ground. But bees aren't
like airplanes, they're like helicopters. Their wings work on the
same principle as helicopter blades--to be precise, "reverse-pitch
semi-rotary helicopter blades. A moving airfoil, whether it's a
helicopter blade or a bee wing, generates a lot more lift than a
stationary one."

I found myself staring at a very confused and slightly frightened
co-worker.

I apologized and walked away before I could get into how the bees'
thorax muscles worked in order to make 200 wing beats per second
possible.

Why do I have this stuff in my head????

Time for some cerebral spring cleaning - hopefully before someone
gets hurt.

Working Out

2009-05-25T09:49:00.000-07:00

~sigh~

So, The Man is out of work...

It would be nice to say that he's taking the summer off
to enjoy the weather and take a little vacation - but the
fact of the matter is that he's lost his job.

My plans of a new computer system, a vacation of my own
and a little financial breathing space all came crashing down
around my feet last Thursday when he got his notice.

Fun, fun, fun...

Just when you think you're finally back on track, someone
changes the route.

Maybe it's time for a change in venue. There's really not much
around here in the way of gainful employment anymore. He's
too old to join the military (not to mention far too insubordinate)...
he can't speak French, so any government jobs are out - and he
would probably stab someone in the face if he worked in the
food service industry.

I'll be looking into putting my house on the market in the next
month or so, I guess.

Anyone want to buy a 112 year old house???

An Occasional Error

2009-05-04T07:21:00.000-07:00

Ever been talking to someone and in the course of the conversation
they use a word or phrase incorrectly?

Usually you let it go, not wanting to draw attention to their
mistake or embarrass them.

I was recently relating a story like this to a friend and co-worker, so
I thought perhaps I would share it here as well.

Years ago, a friend of mine had a big Christmas party and invited
most of the people she knew, both from work and from school. It
was quite the shindig, let me tell you.

Anyway, at this party was another friend of mine, Janice*. Now
Janice had a terrible crush on a certain guy and had never known
how to approach him.

This particular guy, whose name was David, happened to be of the
Jewish persuasion - but had attended the party all the same.
None of us cared about his religion anymore than he cared about ours
- so it was all good. Besides, why miss a good party over something
so trivial?

Under the influence of a little too much Christmas cheer from the
punch bowl, Janice approached me to ask what it was that the Jewish
people celebrated this time of year.

"Hanukkah" I replied. "The phrase is Happy Hanukkah."

She thanked me and stumbled off in search of David.

I happened to be standing within earshot when she found him.

Janice threw her arms around him and in her tipsy and tremulous
voice wished David a "Happy Holocaust!!"

I nearly died.

To this day, every time I think of that night I do two things:

1) cringe and 2) laugh hysterically.

Needless to say, Janice never did get anywhere with David - although
he did forgive her...eventually.

*names have been changed to protect the inebriated.

Kann dieses nicht berühren!!

2009-04-28T06:44:00.001-07:00

Some things just strike me as incredibly funny.

This, for example:

Why is it funny?

I don't know.

It just is.

Accept it.
Laugh.
Move on.

Hoops!!!

2009-04-26T16:06:00.000-07:00

Gah!

What is in these things??

Note that I have included in the picture the list of ingredients.

No comment on the 'nutritional value' - I'm sure that they're

absolutely bursting with vitamins and minerals.

If anyone can tell me what is in these that makes them so damned

addictive I'd be most appreciative.

Honestly, I swear these things are coated in flavored cocaine or something.

Where I work, we have one of those annoying snack machines
in the cafeteria. Normally, I can ignore that machine - but not
when there's HOOPS in it.

I can hear them calling to me...luring me with their evil, barbecue flavor.

I actually broke a ten dollar bill so that I could feed coins into that
infernal machine for more of these things.

Is there therapy for Hoop addiction?

I sure hope so.

I Toad You So

2009-04-22T06:06:00.000-07:00

Gangs, gaggles and groups...

If there is more than one of the same thing in the same place at the
same time - then there's a name for it.

Why do I bring this up?

Well, I was recently speaking with an acquaintance of mine about the return of the nice weather and that soon I would have the pleasure of hearing the sound of the peeper frogs and groups of tree toads that congregate near my home in the evenings.

He fixed me with an I'm-smarter-than-you stare, interrupted
me and said 'not'.

"Beg pardon?"

Again he said ''not''.

"Not what, exactly?"

"No, no...tree toads. A group of toads is called a knot. K-N-O-T."

Oh..
(like I needed to know this) Thanks, jerk. J-E-R-K.

It seems that saying there are a bunch of, group of, whole
fuckofalotof whatever just isn't good enough anymore. Now
we need to know the actual name of the particular group.

Did you know, for example:

A group of Finches is called a Charm

A group of frogs is called an Army

A group of Geese on the ground is called a Gaggle, but
a group of Geese in the air is a Skein

A group of Goats is called a Trip

A group of Hares is called a Husk

A group of Kangaroos is called a Mob

A group of Owls is called a Parliament

A group of Rhinos is called a Crash

A group of Whales is called a Pod

And a group of know-it-all acquaintances is called a STFU.

Mustang Sally

2009-04-14T05:25:00.000-07:00

I was checking out a few things that The Man had
downloaded on Bit Torrent recently.
(gasp!...illegal downloading..sshhhh!)

A few albums...an updated version of CorelDraw, and...porn.

I have no problem with porn - have been known to watch it
myself, actually. (it's funnier than most comedies these days)

What I found the most amusing however, were the names of some
of these 'porn stars'.

Becky Banger...Tiara Tantric...Lily Luscious...and the list goes on.

Besides the annoying alliteration, these names are just ridiculous.

Everyone knows the 'How to Find Your Porn Star Name' thing - why
don't they use that kind of thing? Incidentally, my porn star name
would be 'Baby Ruth'. How cool is that??

Then there's the comparison between porn stars and children's toys.

My Little Pony(tm) toys had some strange names...Ruby Lips, and
Lickety Split, for example. Sound like something you want your
five year old playing with? Me neither.

To further my point and also to entertain you somewhat, I offer
you a quiz: Porn Star or My Little Pony.

Good bucking luck.

(Click the pretty pony, baby)

A Dedication

2009-04-03T08:47:00.000-07:00

I cannot name the person to whom this is dedicated.

I wouldn't do that.

Not that I believe this person would read my blog - I
doubt they would take any interest.

As much as I am loathe to dedicate a song by one of my
favorite groups of all time to such an individual, it's lyrics
ring true - and everytime I have had to speak to this person,
these words go through my head over and over.

Brain-storming habit-forming
battle-warning weary
winsome actor spewing spineless chilling lines ---
the critics falling over to tell themselves he's boring
and really not an awful lot of fun.
Well who the hell can he be
when he's never had V.D.,
and he doesn't even sit on toilet seats?
Court-jesting, never-resting ---
he must be very cunning
to assume an air of dignity
and bless us all with his oratory prowess,
his lame-brained antics and his jumping in the air.
And every night his act's the same
and so it must be all a game of chess he's playing ---
``But you're wrong, Steve: you see, it's only solitaire.''

Acquaint By Numbers

2009-03-31T08:23:00.000-07:00

Ever just follow random links out of boredom?

Me too...although normally it only takes about three
clicks before you end up on some porn site or other.

Yesterday, I was clicking away on hyperlinks and ended up
on a Numerology website and got to reading.

I do read my horoscope most days although I don't put
a whole lot of stock in it. It has become more of a habit
than a belief - something to do between the editorial page
and the comics.

I learned to read tarot cards years ago, have done my
share of scrying, and take more than a passing interest
in palmistry. The desire to understand the past, be aware
of the present and glimpse the future is an inborn trait
for me...and I'm sure I'm not alone.

Anyway, numerology.

I know a few people who are right into this stuff and
swear by it's accuracy. Numbers, they say, are no
accident. Everything has a sum - and when all things
are added up, patterns become visible.

So finding myself on this numerology site, I couldn't
help but enter my information to see what my personal
calculations said about me.

I was impressed for the most part. Much like my astrological
sign descriptions (Capricorn), I saw myself in much of what this
numerology report said. There were a few aspects I found a
little laughable, but by and large, it was pretty close.

If you know me personally, click on the numbers box and see
what you think.

If you don't know me on a personal level...feel free to click and
find out if you want to get to know me better.

Incidentally, any cracks about my hyphenated birth name or my
maiden name will earn you swift retribution....(that's part of who
I am too =P )

Rules is Rules

2009-03-27T21:52:00.000-07:00

Isn't it great when you have the day off, your friends
have the day off, and you try to decide what to do?

Please, for the love of all that is holy...plan something
in advance.

Anything.

Hours spent drinking coffee while playing the 'I dunno... what do you wanna do' game is frustrating, boring and
wastes valuable time. Usually by the time a consensus
is reached, it's 8:00 pm and the day has been utterly
spent.

Go get a manicure together. See a movie. Shoot some
pool. Go shopping...something!!

It's either that - or resort to

(insert scary music here__________)

The Rules...

Click the comic for bigishness

XKCD

Fruit Ballad

2009-03-25T21:02:00.001-07:00

I hate to do this so often, but I'm one of those people
who firmly believes that misery loves company.

Come...keep me company.
You know you want to.

If you are brave enough (and need a good laugh),
please click on the picture below to hear a song that
is cute, stupid, and terribly contagious.

Sing it to your friends...see how long they stay your friends.

Incidentally, this was introduced to me by a co-worker
who sings it everytime he passes me (which over the course
of my day amounts to about 20 times or more).

I love him...and hate him too.

(nothing but love, Giuseppi...nothing but love!)

Spring Careening

2009-03-24T07:25:00.000-07:00

Ah, Spring!

The sun is getting brighter, the days a little
longer...and no matter where you go, you cannot
escape the smell of thawing dogshit.

As much as I am glad winter is over, the arrival
of Spring brings so many annoyances with it.

Here are just a few:

Bicyclists. Sorry - I'm not a bike person. If you
can't obey the rules of the road, then your bike
is not a vehicle, it's a toy. And toys belong
in the yard.

Skateboarders. Die. All of you. Now.
The sidewalk is not a half-pipe, bus stop benches
are not for jumping and railings are for hands - not
your damned skateboards!

Rollerbladers. You can die too. Take your fancy-
shmancy dance moves to the nightclub and get off the
damned sidewalk.

Joggers. Nike vs. Michelin - need I say more?

Please don't get me wrong. I have no problem with
any of the above activities in and of themselves. I
just hate it when they interfere with MY attempts to
get somewhere...especially when I'm driving.

I drive a very large vehicle - and I have no qualms
whatsoever about taking any one of you out with it.
I will sleep well at night, comfortable in the knowledge
that I did my part to better the community.

...

2009-03-20T21:33:00.000-07:00

The previous post was for one person in particular.

Judging from the emails that I received today, it has
come to my attention that I have several friends in need
of support and/or comfort.

Of course that message was for you.

...and you too.

To Whom It May Concern

2009-03-20T08:28:00.000-07:00

It's going to work out...

Maybe not right away - there are undoubtedly hard
times ahead.

You're going to be okay.

I promise.

I won't give up if you don't give up...

The Wearing o' the Green

2009-03-17T09:22:00.000-07:00

St. Patrick's Day...Faith and Begorah!! Let us all get
shitfaced drunk on green beer and do silly jigs like
overgrown hobbits on meth.

Surely this is the legacy the proud Irish
intended to pass along to the rest of the world.

Riiiiiiiiiiiight.

Drink...get drunk...fall down...get back up...hit someone...
(preferably a stranger, but a friend will do)...drink some more.

And don't forget your silly fake accent! Jesus-Mary-n-the Saints, ya
canna' be heard speaking today without a rich Irish brogue!

Which brings me to this:

Someday, the Irish will kill us all in our sleep.
And we'll deserve it.

Playing Post Office

2009-03-11T04:57:00.000-07:00

Canada Post sucks.

There.
I said it.

I'm sure that now all my mail is going to end up
crumpled and damaged, or strewn across my
front yard instead of in my mailbox - but at the moment,
I don't really care.

This morning, I sent a package to California. The box was
not heavy, over-sized or even oddly shaped. Just a
run-of-the-mill box weighing in at a few pounds.

The guy at the post office tells me that I have to tell him
exactly what is in the box and how much the contents are
worth.

I looked at him with my usual charming 'you have got to
be joking me' look and gave him his answer: "It's a gift -
it's none of your business, and it's worth a great deal to me
and hopefully to the recipient as well."

He fixes me with a cold glare and then says: "Lady, just tell
me what's in the box and what it's worth approximately."
He sighs like he had to explain molecular physics to me.

These people make about $35.00 per hour to be like
this...and it pisses me off.

I try a different approach.

"Look...this is a birthday gift for a very good friend. If it
was your birthday, would you want to know what was in
the box before you opened it and how much your friend
spent on you?"

His face softened...a bit.
A human connection from the Canadian Postal Service...
who would have thought???

"I still have to put something on the label," he said.

"How about gift", I replied.

"...and for value?"

I smiled.
"Priceless."

"Priceless...ok. To insure a package of this size and weight
at 'priceless' value will be $42.25 and the postage to send it
express will be $34.70....so that's uh....$76.95 all together."

Have I mentioned I hate the Postal Service?

"Fine...'gift'...value...$120.00....happy?"

"$41.10, ma'am. Thank you and have a nice day."

"Ah...go stamp yourself."

More Sticky Notes

2009-03-06T19:32:00.000-08:00

Gah...!

♪♫ Hot Tamale...Hot, hot tamale...Hot tamale - Hot! Hot!♫♪

It's not a commercial (although it should be!).

It's a song, of sorts - and it's stuck in my head.

See for yourself...although you can't blame me for the
strange looks you receive from friends, relatives and
co-workers when you go around singing this for hours
on end.

You were warned...

(touch the tamale)

Sliced and Diced

2009-03-05T09:15:00.000-08:00

I was discussing hobbies and pass-times with a group
of people at work the other day.

Most of these people are fairly new to me, having been hired
while I was off on medical leave.

They are all younger than me by many years - most of them
being in their early twenties.

The conversation turned to Dungeons and Dragons.

When I suddenly chimed in with my love for D&D I was
met with looks that ranged from surprise to reverence.

Yes... I'm a dork.

I play Dungeons and Dragons and have for many many years.
And I still play with the same group of people that I started
playing with.

D&D is fun.
It's therapeutic as well.
For a few precious hours I can go from being middle-aged,
middle-management Lynn to ONYX, Ptahian Cleric/Psyonicist
with the power to heal, resurrect the dead, control minds, and
kill with a word.

There is no better way to release the frustrations of a long
week.
(well, there is...but this is a pg rated blog)

I have found that if you play D&D with someone long enough,
you'll get to know who they really are.

No matter what class or alignment you play, your real self will
eventually shine through.

My main character is a cleric; a healer...a helper and protector.
Believe it or not, that's who I am.

I have many other characters I play, but Onyx, my cleric, is by
far my favorite and the easiest for me to play. She's also my
oldest character...the one I first began with.

D&D has changed so much over the years. Rules have changed,
new classes have evolved while others have disappeared all
together. But no matter how much it changes, the basic premise
will always be the same:

Become someone powerful.
Smite your enemies.
Take their stuff.

Who doesn't want to do that?

Juxtapochicken

2009-03-01T04:44:00.000-08:00

I was watching The Nature of Things last night-
an amazing show that translates the mysteries of
science and nature into entertainment for an hour.
It's host is David Suzuki, a Canadian Zoologist,
Geneticist, Eco-Warrior, and all-round incredible man.

Although these kinds of programs often depress me due
to the doom and gloom forecast for the planet should
things not change, I love Suzuki and always enjoy his
presentations as he can still find ways to insert a little
humor and humanity into even the darkest of subjects.

Dr. Suzuki has multiple doctorates, honorary titles
galore - including the Order of Canada; he has been
adopted by no less than two native tribes and has
earned the respect of the scientific community
around the world for his outstanding commitment to
the environment.

When the program was over the mandatory
commercials commenced. The first ad to come on
was for KFC - and I began to laugh hysterically.
(The Man thought I'd lost my marbles)

Am I the only one who finds this funny?

Well...I know Dr. Suzuki would have laughed...

Driving to Distraction

2009-02-27T02:53:00.001-08:00

Driving home from work last night, I was nearly rear-ended
by some fucknut who was gawking at some chippy on the
sidewalk.

The driver ahead of me put his left signal light on and came
to a stop. So...I stopped as well.

But not Mr. Ogle-Eyes... Oh no.
He was too busy trying to impress some twelve year old
prostitot in a microskirt.

Had I not leaned on my horn (causing the driver ahead
of me to think I was an impatient idiot) I would have had
the lecherous moron in my trunk.

I will admit that when it comes to driving, I get frustrated
really quickly. There are way too many morons out there
with drivers' licenses.

I'm not even going to comment on the cellphone freaks
who are happily talking and texting and whatnot instead of
paying attention to the ton of metal they happen to be
operating.

When I first heard about Road Rage, it seemed like a
bizarre concept. Killing people just because they cut you off
in traffic or whatever.

I believe I understand it now...and fully endorse shooting
people who shouldn't be driving in the first place.
(ok..ok..I don't want them dead, I just want them off the
damned road)

One of my favourite online toons is Neurotically Yours, with
Foamy, the wonderful ranting squirrel.

Foamy has some suggestions for improving peoples' driving.

Please, check it out. You'll be glad you did.

(click the squirrel)

Funny Feelings

2009-02-24T16:03:00.000-08:00

Ever get the feeling you're the butt of some cosmic joke that
everyone is in on but you? Or, as Ian Anderson so eloquently said "Do you ever get the feeling that the story's too damned real and in the present tense...or that everybody's on the stage and it feels like you're the only person sitting in the audience..."

Conversations suddenly stop when you show up...and
snickering resumes upon your departure. Sounds like
paranoia, I know - but I've never been the most self-
confident grape on the vine.

Besides...every once in a while, the paranoids are right;
Someone really IS out to get them.

I've got no problem laughing at myself - hell, i do it all
the time. I've got faults aplenty and more than a few
foibles too. I just want to know what's so funny this time
so I can enjoy the joke too - even if it is at my expense.

Sticky Notes

2009-02-22T12:17:00.000-08:00

I have had the same song stuck in my head for about
three days now.

Usually, the songs that I get stuck in my bean are
insipid and annoying. You know what I'm talking
about, don't you?

The song Barbie Girl nearly drove me to absolute
distraction a few years back. I hated the song with a
passion - and yet, for some reason never adequately
explained to me, it would get jammed in my brain
and refuse to leave.

When I was in high school, the song You Spin Me
Round (like a record, baby) pushed me to the very
edge of the lunatic fringe. No matter what I did, I
could not shake that stupid song out of there. I would
listen to good music and be fine - but the moment it
was over...
♪♫ You spin me right round baby, right round - like a record baby♫♪

Aaargh!

At least the song I currently have in my head is not a
silly poptart song.
It's called Konstantine, by Something Corporate - and
I really do love it.

Makes me want to play piano again...

Ugh

2009-02-19T01:29:00.000-08:00

Yes, it's been over a week since I updated this thing.

Forgive me -- I've been very sick.
I still am, in fact.

There is a horrendous cold/flu/plague going around
these parts. It's highly contagious and unmerciful
in its victim selection.

Last Friday I came home after work feeling alright
except for a bit of a sore throat. I woke up Saturday
morning sounding like a cement mixer, complete with
a chest full of gravel. Happy freakin' Valentines Day to
me.

I also had a low-grade fever which gave my already pale
complexion a nice sickly sheen. Trés sexy, let me tell you.

I am feeling better for the most part, although I still have
a wonderful barking cough that every so often makes me
sound like I swallowed a goose. You know:
~cough, cough...cough...honk...cough~ It's a thing of
beauty, it is.

So, there it is. The reason I haven't updated my blog.
If you require further proof of my illness, please feel free
to stop by. I'm sure I'm probably still contagious.

~honk~

White Noise

2009-02-10T01:54:00.000-08:00

~sigh~

I am sick and tired of the small-minded nonsense that
seems to go on in this backwater cracker box of a
town.

I'm not going to go off on an anti-racial slur rant - if I do,
I'll never stop. All I will say is that when it comes to open-
mindedness, this town's collective mind is water-tight.

Which brings to mind the following excerpt from Blazing Saddles...
a truly brilliant film. If ever there was a town that could be
summed up in a fifty-six second clip, it's this one.

Sesame Street-walkers

2009-02-09T01:39:00.000-08:00

There is a strange and frightening phenomenon around these
parts; one that makes me wonder if Jerry Springer is putting
something in our drinking water...

Out and about as I was this past weekend, I started noticing
young girls - nay - children dressed like hookers and pole
dancers. These girls could not have been more than nine,
possibly ten years of age. They weren't huddled together
like some pre-teen posse either. They were here and there,
some with parents, some not. Short skirts (like short!),
half-tops, makeup...hell, one of them even had CFM boots!!
(if ya gotta ask...ya don't need to know)

As a society, we are disgusted and appalled when any woman
gets sexually assaulted. No Means No and all that jazz...
BUT - what about all this false advertising going on? Especially
on frickin' children?!

Who is to blame for the way these kids are dressed? MTV...
Whatsherface Cyrus...Barbie?? NO.

Parents.
Plain and simple.

My mother would have sent my head spinning from my shoulders
if I had attempted to leave the house looking even remotely
that slutty. And that would have applied until I was 17!

Now, that having been said, I did see one of these prosti-tots with
an adult woman - arguing about something the little tart wanted.
The woman was about my age - and dressed more or less like
the child - more cleavage, less makeup. Then I heard the
one word that made me shudder:
Grandma.
This was the child's GRANDMOTHER!

I guess apples really don't fall far from the tree.

yes...that is an actual Barbie(tm)
Black Canary Barbie

Sad...no?

Friday, etc.

2009-02-06T01:45:00.000-08:00

It's Friday!

For a year and a half or so, I could hardly keep track
of what day it was. Not working tends to make one
lackadaisical when it comes to things like that.
One day is pretty much like the next...

Being back at work for one week has certainly changed
that. Trust me when I tell you that 4:00 PM cannot
come fast enough today. (it's currently 4:49 AM...ugh)

I seem to be doing okay - I'm tired and irritable, but most
people wouldn't say that is anything other than my
robust personality anyway. The medication I am currently
on make me kind of 'fuzzy' and 'not-quite-there' - which
often makes for interesting conversation...But, all in all,
I'm getting by.

Thank you to everyone who wished me well in my return
and who have inquired since then.

I received this award from Jen yesterday with
the instructions that I am to list 5 of my addictions
and then pass it on to my favorite blogger. It seems
silly to pass it back to Jen - who is by far my favorite
blogger. (and also my best friend)

For your amusement, information, blackmail purposes,
whathaveyou - I shall list a few of my addictions:

1) CAFFEINE: ambrosia, lifeblood...that which makes
all things possible. If there is no coffee - there is no Lynn.

2) RECIPE BOOKS: I have far too many - but never enough.

3) MUSIC: It is the language of my life.

4) THE INTERNET: Take away my television, newspapers,
car, husband (please!), just about anything - but I must have
access to the net. It's where all my friends live.

5) CHOCOLATE: Well, d-uh.

Aw...Fudge!

2009-02-03T02:46:00.000-08:00

So, I survived my first day back at work.

A lot has changed since I've been away. There
are a lot of new faces, new policies, new stupidities.
It goes with the territory, I guess.

Sadly, one thing hasn't changed. The fact that even
though I am a manager and have come up through
the rank and file - I am only really known for one
thing there.

FUDGE.

That's right...fudge.

I made the mistake of making a batch of fudge and
taking it in to work to share with my colleagues while
we were still in training. Suddenly I was inundated
with requests for fudge. 'It's my mom's birthday and she loves fudge!'...'Will you make me some fudge for my sister?'...'I love your fudge - will you make me some?'
and so on and so on.

One day I printed up a list of the kinds of fudge I can make
(17 in all) and what it would cost to make each variety and
gave it to a coworker who had asked for such a thing. Within
an hour, there must have been 50 copies of that list around
the building - and once again I was approached by people
asking for fudge.

Anyway...when I left work on medical leave, I guess people
went into fudge-withdrawal or something. Upon my return
to work yesterday, I was welcomed back warmly and asked
over and over again...'Do you still make fudge?'

Well...at least I'm remembered for something.

Work Weak

2009-02-02T01:49:00.000-08:00

You know...4:00 AM comes really early.
Especially when you aren't used to things like
alarm clocks anymore. It took me about five
minutes to figure out what that annoying noise
was.

Today is the day I return to work.

Yippee.

I suppose I should be thankful that I am well
enough to do so - and yet, a very large part
of me wants to get back in bed, curl up in a ball
and forget that place even exists.

I'm afraid.

Afraid of relapse...afraid of having to field all the
stupid questions I am no doubt going to get...afraid
of stressing out and going postal. All these things
and more keep on clamoring around in my brain - and
I've only had one cup of coffee!! It's too damned
early for this kinda thing...

Well, they can't expect miracles on my first day back,
can they? Knowing my boss, I'm sure I'm already
three miracles behind.

Should I survive the day, I'll let you know how
it goes.

♪♫ Hi-ho...Hi-ho ♫♪

Condomnation

2009-01-30T17:20:00.001-08:00

I had a very interesting conversation with an acquaintance of
mine recently. She was telling me that her thirteen year old
son came home from school the other day with condoms which
were given to him in health class.

Now, I don't have kids - nor should I - but I really didn't
understand her anxiety and anger at the teacher, school and
administration of said institution. Instructing kids about the
importance of condoms isn't telling them to go out and have sex...
is it? That was the gist of her displeasure with the school and
it's teachings.

I figure by the time a kid reaches the age of thirteen, they
probably know more about sex than I do. They've had access
to the internet all their lives - and have no doubt seen if not
memorized the Animated Kama Sutra.

Condoms are so commonplace these days...it's not like when
I was younger, let me tell you. Back in the day it took all your
courage and usually a little of a friend's to go to the check out
counter with your box of Trojans. Sheesh...nowadays they're
right at the damned till - between the Dentyne and the
Junior Mints...and they're colored, textured... flavored even!!

Kids these days...they've got it so easy.

So, my advice to parents of young teenagers is this:
Lighten up.

Better your kids learn about safe sex and have condoms
given to them at school than have them find out on their
own what happens without them...right?

Signs of Life

2009-01-29T09:13:00.000-08:00

♪♫ I saw the sign..and it opened up my eyes, I saw the sign..♫♪

They're everywhere - you can't avoid them. They
tell you where to go, how far it is, how fast you can
go to get there. Then there are signs that tell you
where you can't go - and how much it will cost you
if you do. They tell us to stop, yield, keep left,
be cautious, merge, give emergency vehicles the
right of way and so on.

Still, we take these simple messengers for granted -
rarely even giving them a second glance. We know
what we're doing and where we're going...we don't
need a sign to tell us.

So, sometimes, special signs are required. Signs that
glow with pretty lights and warn us of danger. Signs that
we will pay attention to if for no other reason than they are
cool to look at. Signs like this one:

Then, along comes some genius (whom I would definitely
sleep with just for the sheer joy this brought me) who took
it one step further. By cleverly hacking into the computer
that programs said sign, he made it much more attention-
grabbing. Trust me when I tell you that reading this sign
will definitely save your life.

It may also cause a few fender benders as people not
only slam on their brakes, but do quick u-turns in
order to make sure they read it correctly.

Small price for such giggles.

read about it here

The Un-Curmudgeoning

2009-01-28T21:33:00.000-08:00

Some of you may have noticed the Grace in Small Things
badge on my sidebar.

If you've never heard of it - give it a clickola and check
it out.

I made a promise to a friend that I would do my best to
become more personable and not quite so curmudgeonly...
more 'approachable' was her term. Apparently I am a grumpy
so-and-so who hates everything and everyone. This just
isn't the case!

It's not that I don't like individuals - I have grown quite fond
of many. I just don't really care for people in general. But I
am going to attempt to better my opinion of the populace, and
perhaps the populace's perception of me. (yeah, right)

Don't get me wrong here. I have no intention of becoming a
sweetness-and-light kinda gal. That just isn't me. I also have
little to no interest in doing this every single day as one is
supposed to. That sounds too much like work for me. But every
once in a while, I'd like to share a few things from my life that
make me smile.

So it is with twinkling eye that I present my first Grace in Small Things
- or, the little things in my life that make it more livable.

1) My coffee maker.
It makes great coffee - and it has a timer. This makes my
life and anyone who has to deal with me in the morning's
life a whole lot easier. Trust me.

2) My mailman.
Most postal workers are overpaid putzes...but my mailman
actually takes the time to knock on my door when he has
a package delivery for me - rather than just dumping it
between my doors. I appreciate this to no end. He's also
rather good-looking, which is an added bonus.

3) Frosted windows on cold mornings.
There's just something awe-inspiring about the way frost
paints glass. At least there is before your husband wakes
up and etches pornographic doodles into it.

4) The inability to play my favourite game.
Haven't played World of Warcraft since the end of July -
and yet, I am still friends with all the people I became
close to through that game. If I haven't told you guys
and gals lately...I love you all.

5) My fuzzy socks.
Today, they don't even match. (unless you go by thickness)
The floors are cold - but my toes are cozy warm in my ultra-
fuzzy foot covers. Warm feet are of utmost importance on
days like these. Not only that, but if I shuffle along the floor,
I can create enough static to shock the cats - and that, my
friends, is entertainment you just can't buy.

Medical Mayhem

2009-01-27T11:59:00.000-08:00

Doctors.

There is a real shortage of them in our area.
Finding a health care professional in this part
of the country is nigh on impossible.

My GP is the busiest man in town - and is nearing
the age of retirement. It's frightening.

Recently, The Man was fortunate enough to be
taken on by the newest doctor in town after being
without a doctor for years. He had an appointment
with her today and ended up having a heated argument
with her regarding medication for chronic back pain.
It ended with The Man telling the doctor in no uncertain
terms what she could do with her ideals and future
treatment plan.

In short, he is now doctor-less... again.

He's going to need a mortician next - because I'm
going to f*cking kill him. I could not believe it when
he told me what he said and the results thereof.

~sigh~

Anyone want to buy a man?

Cheap.

Snakes on a Plate

2009-01-25T07:10:00.000-08:00

In the realm of food, I think everyone likes
something that their friends and relatives think
they are insane for. Personally, I like coarsely
ground black pepper on fresh strawberries...
Hey - don't knock it until you've tried it!

I like to think I am open-minded when it comes
to trying new foods. Some of them are wondrous
delights...others, not so much. But I do try them.
Well - most of them.

I have an allergy to shellfish and a lot of seafood,
which keeps many of the stranger things off my plate.
There is one thing, however, that has recently been brought
to my attention that I could probably eat - I just
can't bring myself to even try. I cannot wrap my head
around them, much less my tongue.

I'm talking about these:

Eels.

ICKY!

I have a very close friend who says that eels
are incredibly delicious. To the best of my knowledge
he is completely sane - so I can only assume he is
serious when he says this.

Now, I'm all for delicious...but when delicious comes
in the guise of a slimy water snake, somewhere
something has gone awry. Perhaps that's why
nature made them look so terrible - so we wouldn't
learn of their deliciousness.
(wow, deliciousness actually IS a word!)

It seems, however, that eating eels is not new.
Whilst watching the news over morning coffee, I
was informed that new research has brought to light
the fact that Jesus and his Disciples were depicted
dining on eels and orange slices in the famous painting
of The Last Supper.

So much for bread and wine.

Can you imagine holy communion with eel and orange
slices? Would certainly give sunrise service a whole
new spin - especially if you were hungover!

~gag~

I realize that the depiction of The Last Supper is strictly
Da Vinci's interpretation - but if the great master thought
that eels were good enough for Jesus, I guess the least I
can do is try them. If and when I do - I'll be sure to let
you know.

Taking the Cake

2009-01-24T08:28:00.001-08:00

Years ago, my mother and I took it upon ourselves
to learn fancy cake decorating. We took two classes;
one being festive cakes, the other one wedding cakes.

Knowing how to make really cool cakes was a great way
to impress your friends and co-workers. It's also a
good way to get roped into providing such treats for every
so-and-so who happens to have a birthday, christening,
bar mitzvah, baby shower, bridal party or retirement.

It isn't a cheap hobby to take up. Cake pans are not only
expensive, they are also easily dented - and thus ruined.
A dent in the pan equals a divot in the cake...a big pain in the
butt when it comes time for icing.

Then of course, there are the icing tools. Tips, bags,
colours, spindles, pegs, columns, ad infinitum.

The icing in and of itself is often a royal pain. One smidge
too much liquid and the icing won't hold. Add more sugar,
you end up with candy. It is a delicate balance - and this
is still when it is uncoloured! The addition of colour is
always a gamble. Sometimes it's perfect - and sometimes
you get a colour that nature never intended to exist.

Most cakes take anywhere from 3 to 9 hours to ice
properly (well, if you want it to look good anyway).

So imagine my shock and horror when I saw this:

Yes, that IS a cake. To perfect scale, too.

I can only imagine the time, effort and tears that
went into the smoothing of that fondant icing.

Somewhere, a cake decorator is still weeping and
massaging his/her aching hands.

Long after that enormous cake has become so many
crumbs on the hardwood, the creator of said delight
will have nightmares of it.

A feat of culinary genius it is - but it is doubtful that
little Tommy or whoever appreciated the effort behind it
- or the price tag it came with!
($360.00 - pittance, really)

I no longer do fancy cakes, except for very special people.

After seeing this, I am happy to be retired.

Read the article here.

Snap, Crackle, Pop

2009-01-23T10:05:00.000-08:00

Well, the cold has finally snapped.

It's a lovely day today - just barely below zero.
In other words, the January thaw has begun.
It won't last - and it will be painful to see it go -
but for now, it's very pleasant.

The snow is melting off the roof, and the icicles
are crackling and falling from the eaves.

According to my best friend, Jennifer, the cold
weather has headed south. I'd say I'm sorry
to hear that, but I'd be lying.

You see, Jen was a cold-blooded Canadian like
myself - but she moved to Florida and became
one of those wimpy warm-bloods. heh heh

I get such a kick out of my southern friends telling
me how 'cold it is' where they are. Puh-leeeze...!
To say I am amused by this is putting it mildly.
Come and visit me - tell me about your chilly
75 degree weather. Poor babies...

Meanwhile, I am going to enjoy this wonderful
weather we are experiencing before the mercury
once again dips to -30 (that's -22 for you wimps)

White Lion, Eye of the Tiger, and Cher...Oh My!

2009-01-20T20:08:00.000-08:00

The 80's...I grew up in them.

For better or worse, I was influenced
by the music and culture (reaganomics, just say no, etc)
of the Octogenarius decade.

Know anything about 80's music?

Prove it here.

Because it's...the eye of the tiger, it's the thrill of the fight - rising up to the challenge of your rival...

Incidentally, I scored 98 out of 100 and got all three
bonus questions correct. =)

Sleezy Like Sunday Morning

2009-01-18T09:45:00.000-08:00

R-i-i-i-i-i-i-n-g....R-i-i-i-i-i-i-n-g

'Zzz....zz...ghmm..."

R-i-i-i-i-i-i-n-g
~fumble~

"...ugh....hello?"

"Mrs. Arscott?"

"... mmhmm"

"Congratulations! You have won an all-expense
paid trip to..."

~click~

8:22 am.

8:22 AM - ON A SUNDAY!!!

Ya know, I distinctly recall putting my name and
number on a DO NOT CALL list.

This has given credence to my belief that whoever is
behind this No-Contact list is a diabolical genius.

I swear that whoever this mastermind is, he has taken
all the names of people who do not want this kind of
invasion and sold the damned list to telemarketers.

I realize that telephone sales generate millions of
dollars and companies that use such tactics provide
thousands of jobs. Everyone needs a job - of that there
is no question.

BUT - do they have to call before noon on weekends -
or any day for that matter?

Also, does anyone really fall for that 'won a free trip to...'
crap? If it sounds too good to be true, then 9 times out
of 10 it is. Besides, I don't enter contests - it gets your
name on CONTACT LISTS!

Sensing a pattern here?

Of Mice and Men

2009-01-17T07:54:00.000-08:00

As previously stated a few days ago, it has been
incredibly cold lately. The cold snap is yet to
break - and thus, things start to get interesting.

For instance: I had a mouse in my house.
Doubtful it is only one mouse, as I truly believe
there is no such thing as A mouse. The cold drives
them to warm and often dangerous places. This
house is very dangerous as we have two cats - both
of whom are avid hunters (much to our chagrin).

The poor little bugger came running full tilt down
the upstairs hallway this morning, squeaking all
the while - a great hulking cat on its tail. It nestled
itself between my feet as I sat at the computer.

Cat, temporarily confused, decided it best to beat
a hasty retreat just in case. I am, after all, the bigger
of the beasts - and what's in my house belongs to me.
Clyde, the cat in question, was not happy about the
situation, but knew there would be other chances.

The tiny rodent sat for a moment, looked up at me,
then made for the safety of the space behind my
bookshelf. Being temporarily stunned by this sudden
turn of events, it never occurred to me to try to
catch the damned thing.

I have no fear of mice or any rodents for that matter.
I simply don't relish the idea of sharing my living
quarters with them. They can be noisy, destructive,
and disease-ridden. Hmmm...sound like children.

Anyway...

The Man and I tried to coax and cajole the creature
into the kitchen where it could be easily herded out
the door. With the assistance of two very keen cats,
we got him to the kitchen - then lost him under the
pantry door. Gah!

Thank goodness we feed the birds. Mr. Mouse was
very quick to find the large bag of birdseed in the
bottom of the pantry.

I've come to realize that mice and men are very
similar. The way to a man's heart is through his
stomach - I think the same can be said for mice.

Mr. Mouse was released back to the chilly wilds
intact and incensed. He gave us more than an
earful as The Man put him outside the back door
into the snow. Better to be cold than cat food, I
think.

Across the Universe

2009-01-16T07:43:00.000-08:00

Words are flying out like
endless rain into a paper cup
They slither while they pass
They slip away across the universe
Pools of sorrow waves of joy
are drifting thorough my open mind
Possessing and caressing me

I have always adored that song...

Recently, I picked up the DVD collector's edition
of Across The Universe. It's a three disc set, the
third being the original movie soundtrack.

As a huge Beatles fan, I was ready to hate this movie
and label it as sacrilege and blasphemy. Good to know
I can still admit when I'm wrong.

Anyone who likes the Beatles and has been influenced
at all by their music should really check this movie out.

Believe me, I'm no fan of musicals (with a few minor
exceptions like Jesus Christ Super Star) - but this really
did impress me. The story is beautiful, the cameos are
surprising - and the music is awesome.

A few highlights to watch (and listen) for are Joe Cocker's
spin on Come Together and the main cast's intensely
beautiful rendition of Because.

Check it out, if you haven't already. Even if you aren't
a Beatles fan...you still could become one. It isn't too late.

Gah!

2009-01-15T10:24:00.000-08:00

This is, as my grandfather used to say, a good
day for the KeeKee bird.

What is the keekee bird, you ask?

Well, the keekee bird is a small, but incredibly loud
creature that flies about on days like this calling
"KeeKee...KeeKee...Crap it's COLD!"

I stepped outside to throw a few things in the recycle
bin wearing only my pj's. That was at 8:30 am. It is now
1:30 pm and I still haven't warmed up.

This is the beginning of a classic January Cold Snap.

My cats are sulking as they want desperately to go out -
but only make it as far as the doorstep before retreating to
the warmth of the kitchen. The maple trees in my yard are
creaking stiffly in the northwestern breeze - no doubt they
will lose a few branches should the wind pick up. Everything
is glistening with a heavy frost that even the bright afternoon
sunshine cannot penetrate. It's truly beautiful to see - but that
is this weather's only saving grace.

Lives are disrupted by such weather. Cars don't want to run,
walking any distance requires every piece of clothing you own
and even a few you don't. Exposed skin will be frostbitten in a
matter of seconds. Road conditions are treacherous as well -
as the road surfaces freeze solid and become black ice.

In other words, it's a good day to stay in and stay put.

I offer proof of my claim here.

Back from Nowhere

2009-01-14T09:43:00.001-08:00

Okay, okay...

Apparently, a month is too long to be on hiatus.
(sorry, Your Grace...forgive me)

I haven't been up to much lately, just taking it easy
before my grand return to the wage-earning
workforce. Bleh.

Having been cooped up in the house for over a
year and a half, the thought of returning to a 'normal life'
both excites and terrifies me.

Yes, it will be good to be out and about again. But, it will
also be hell having to deal with actual people again. Why do
there have to be so many people?

I turned 40 on Monday. Four whole decades of Lynndom.
Hmph. Who would have thought? Certainly not I.
Personally, I wasn't expecting to live to see thirty...

On a high note, I got a ZUNE for my birthday. It is a very
cool toy. Not only does it hold more songs than I could possibly
listen to - it will be a great tool to assist in blocking out
all the people.

Hopefully, posts will be more exciting as I get back into
the swing of things. If they do not, well, I can always just
go back to hiatus-shire.

It's nice there.

2008-12-13T12:09:00.000-08:00

The Secret

2008-12-08T10:25:00.000-08:00

Who came up with this 'Secret Santa' crap? I really want to know.

I'm sure everyone is familiar with this inane tradition in the workplace: You are forced to draw a name and purchase a cheap gift for someone you wouldn't cross the street to spit on if they were on fire.

These people are, more often than not, just co-workers. They aren't your friends. You don't know anything about them other than the fact that they cannot spell, or they don't know how to walk with a cup of coffee without spilling it across the entire office floor. Not really great criteria for gift purchasing. And, to make matters worse, you get stuck with something stupid and useless that you have to thank someone else you hardly know for. I'm sure there are those that would love a tissue box cover that looks like a koala bear. I'm not one of them. Take this stupid thing back and leave me alone.

This is one of the stupidest things about this overblown religious-cum-retail holiday. Useless gifts from strangers. Ugh.

Luckily, there are others that feel the same way I do.

Behold.

The Music of Your Life

2008-12-07T10:05:00.000-08:00

For those of you who know me, you know that there is rarely a time that I'm not listening to music. It's just one of those things. I need music in order to function...

Lately, I rediscovered Last.FM - and I'm enjoying it immensely. I had created an account with them years ago but forgot all about it. Now I am using it even as we speak.

This wonderful site allows you to program your own radio station, playing only the artists you choose - or, if you prefer, choose a group/artist you enjoy and let Last select other artists similar to that one for you. Last FM can be used directly through itunes, Winamp, Mediaplayer and several other applications. It is as versatile as it is wonderful.

You can also find friends according to musical tastes and check out what they're listening to as well. The site is international and it furthers the belief that music is the universal language. It is both strange and wonderful to know that people in the Ukraine, Iceland, Spain and the Hawaiian Islands all share my love of Steely Dan.

I have had the pleasure of being added to a few friends lists and have been introduced to some very good music - by artists I had been previously unaware of.

If, like me, you love music and have the desire to expand your library or are looking for music that you haven't heard since you were knee high to a duck, I strongly recommend Last.FM.

Check it out - you won't be sorry.

Incidentally, if you want to see what I listen to - add me to your friends list...I'm listed under Cordyn (of course).

A caveat, however; my musical tastes are far from mainstream and run the gamut between Bach and Black Sabbath.

Emergency?

2008-12-04T15:45:00.001-08:00

Websters International Dictionary defines Emergency thusly: a sudden, urgent, usually unexpected occurrence or occasion requiring immediate action.

The Man did an ass-plant the other day in the parking lot outside of his place of employment. As amusing as that may have been to witness (I missed it - but heard about it), it left him with an incredibly sore hip and the inability to walk, sit or stand up without an accompanying 'Yeeeaaaarrrrrrrgghhhh' sound. He came home from work this morning at around 11:00 AM as he was no longer able to sit in his chair at his desk due to intense pain in his lower back.

Being employed by corporate slavers, leaving early requires a certificate from a doctor stating that you left to seek out medical attention. Without said certification, pay is docked and suspicion is roused - thus labeling one a 'liar' or 'layabout'.

SO...off to the hospital emergency room we go for proof of medical consultation, and hopefully an x-ray or two.

That was at noon. It is now 6:55 PM - and I have come home to 1) let the cats in, 2) take medication and pick up my husband's meds to take back to him and 3) vent.

Seven freakin' hours...and he hasn't even seen a doctor yet!!!!!!

Free health care may be a wondrous thing where there are plenty of health care professionals - but holy-mother-of-cheese...! There are others in the emergency waiting room who had been there long before The Man and I arrived. They too are still sitting there...waiting.

There are doctors in the hospital - it's not like there aren't. However, the two doctors that are on call today are idiots and boobs and I wouldn't trust either of them to know a pimple from a pot hole. Still, all The Man needs is an x-ray and a note saying that he'd been there...and still, we wait.

I'm so angry...~grrrr~. No. Make that ~GRRRRRRRRRR~.

Many people came through the emergency room doors, took a quick look around and left. Smart. No doubt they drove the half hour to a neighbouring town such as Renfrew or Deep River to seek medical attention. Had I thought The Man could stand the drive, I'd have done the same.

Unfortunately, the Renfrew hospital and the Deep River health care service don't particularly care for people coming from out of town to frequent their hospitals because it throws off their statistics. Understandable - but so is the predicament of those of us subjected to the ridiculous wait times and incompetence of our own hospital staff.

Okay...enough of this.

I have to get back to The Man before he kills someone out of frustration. I also need eight more dollars for parking at that infernal hell hole. Don't even get me started on that...

If I am not jailed for inciting a riot, I will be back to finish this.

Lego My Xmas Present

2008-12-03T22:18:00.000-08:00

Okay...

I never ask for anything for Christmas because I really don't care about it.

Usually if someone asks me what I want for Christmas I say 'world peace'. Of course, they roll their eyes and say ' sorry...anything else?'...to which I reply 'nope'.

BUT - I found something today that really caught my attention and tickled my fancy.

Silly, frivolous and childish...and absolutely perfect.

Check it out:

How cool is this? Lego jewelry!

Eat your heart out, Barbie! You can have your dream home, your horses, your pink sports car, your glittery dresses and your day-spa....they don't make Lego jewelry in your size. Hahahahaha....

~ahem~ Santa...if you're reading this...see above picture.

World AIDS Day

2008-12-01T10:18:00.000-08:00

It's World Aids Day.

Living where I do, the AIDS epidemic is something I only hear about on the news. I'm sure there are people in my city and community with the disease - it would be foolish to think that there aren't. But it isn't something I am confronted with daily.

However, when I lived in Toronto it was different. I knew people with the disease...all of whom are gone now. Good people...compassionate, caring people. Gone. Some were former intravenous drug users, others were gay...some were straight. But they all had one thing in common; an incurable disease that eventually took their lives.

The statistics on AIDS/HIV are frightening...staggering, even. Is it lack of knowledge or apathy on the part of the general public that allows this nightmare to run rampant?

Here in Ontario, I know that the public school system makes learning about HIV, AIDS, and other STD's a part of the regular curriculum. This, in my opinion, is a good thing.

I remember when I was in high school some parents were up in arms that they were teaching sexual health classes in the school - and that condoms were provided for the asking by the health care nurse. Seems foolish to me to be upset, seeing as the consequences of not having the knowledge and the ability to protect oneself can result in pregnancy, sickness and yes, even death (although not instantaneous).

If you are a parent and your child is of an age to learn about such things, find out if your child's school provides health classes that will cover these subjects. If they do not, there is a multitude of resources at your disposal to provide you with all the knowledge and tools to teach them yourself - the internet being among the best. Yes...it's not just for porn anymore.

There are many, many organizations and foundations in support of AIDS research. Surely you can find the time and the strength of character to help them out somehow. Donate money, time, or provisions...

Open your heart and your mind.

The future depends on it.

Five Years

2008-11-30T13:39:00.000-08:00

November 30th.

Five years to the day since my Mother departed this goodly earth.

The Man and I went to Mom's grave today...just because I had to. It's something I need to do every so often.

We've had a lot of snow lately, as you can see. I had to dig to find the stone - and even then, I found it iced over. Not that her stone reveals any great truths to me or anything...I just wanted to see it...see her name. Sadly, I couldn't get all the ice off it as I only had my keys to work with, and I feared scratching the marble surface.

I guess it was about five years ago today that I started despising Christmas. The yuletide season was always my mother's favourite. She wanted the tree up, the lights on the house and garland on the banisters the minute the jack-o-lantern was gone.

It seems strange that this time of 'giving and generosity' took from me one of the best things in my life.

Christmas sucks.

So does cancer.

I miss you, Mom.

Hello, My Name Is...

2008-11-29T09:05:00.000-08:00

I was informed yesterday that a friend of a friend of mine recently gave birth to a baby girl (as opposed to a litter of puppies....which wouldn't have shocked me as much as one would think)

She and her husband named the child ~ahem~ Madagascar Delaray. Anyone else want to help me beat these people to death with a garden weasel? And yes, Delaray is the middle name - not the surname. To protect the idiotic, I will leave that out....for now.

I realize that people want their child to be unique. Giving them a name like that isn't going to make them unique, it's going to make them a freakin' target! I think they should take the poor little thing right now and get a nice white and red ringed tattoo put on her forehead.

Names, I know, come and go with time. Not a lot of Berthas, Ednas, Agathas or Hazels running around these days. I believe that is because most of them are in the nursing home.

Nowadays, we are inundated with Tiffanys, Cheyennes, Ambers, Caitlins, Ashleys, Ariels, Courtneys, Whitneys...and all of the many, many spellings thereof.

And speaking of spelling - why is it that names traditionally spelled with y's are suddenly all ending in i's?

Kathi, Nanci, Judi, Kerri, Juli....this is absurd! Next thing you know it will be: "Hi, my name is Heatheri...the i is silent."

I'm not even going to go into the names celebrities give their offspring - although Gwyneth Paltrow, lovely thing that she is (with a great name, too) should be drawn and quartered for naming her daughter Apple and her son Moses. If she and her husband had any brains or biblical knowledge, they should have named their son Adam...that would have at least been funny instead of just moronic. Apple, indeed. What's next? "...and these are my children, Baklava, Parfait, and the twins, Peanut-Butter and Jelly"??

Shakespeare wrote: "What's in a name? That which we call a rose, by any other name would smell as sweet."

Obviously, Shakespeare didn't have to deal with the names of today - because most of the trendy, cutesy names out there just plain stink.

Madagascar...

Ugh.

Blech

2008-11-26T12:35:00.000-08:00

Ugh.

I'm sick.

I've been fighting a bug for a few days now...telling myself it's just a cold and not to be such a big baby.

Now I have a fever.

I feel dizzy and I'm hearing voices...although they don't speak English, so I can't be sure what they're saying.

Everything tastes like glue, and my tongue feels like it's wearing a sweater.

~sniffle~

I hate feeling like this.

Anyone want to make me soup?

The Purse-moot of Happiness

2008-11-25T09:25:00.000-08:00

Okay, so obviously I have a hang-up with my key chain.

Many of you have emailed me or messaged me to tell me that I do, indeed have a problem and that I should seek help.

One kind soul was brave enough to suggest that the problem may lie deeper than my key rings, and that I should perhaps look to my purse.

Oh god...

My purse (or, the black hole as The Man calls it) is a frightening thing. It holds more mysteries than a Masonic Temple ledger. Not secrets of wisdom and wonder, but more along the lines of 'what the bloody hell is that doing in here?'

So, it is with more than a little trepidation that I present to you, my friends and readers of this nonsense, the contents of said accoutrement.

First, the bag itself:

Nothing out of the ordinary, right? Simple black leather.

Now...the hard part.

The contents:

Wow! Where do I begin here...

Well, let's do it this way:

Here is what any functional, right-thinking woman would carry in her purse (give or take maybe two or three sundry items)

Wallet, glasses, hair brush, lipstick case (2 lipstick), perfume, calculator, compact mirror, address book, sunglasses, parking change (that's the small velvet bag). You will note that I do not have a cell phone. Don't ask why...trust me.

These are the items that should be in my purse - and they are. Along with all this other crap...

All right...let's see here...um...

One hair band, one barrette, three hair elastics
Eight more lipsticks, three lip liners, one eyebrow pencil, one tube of highlighter cream, one tube of mascara, one lip gloss
Two bottles of perfume
One bottle of hairspray
A jar of assorted D&D dice (never know when you may need 2 d12)
One bottle of black shoe polish
One pair of scissors
A glue stick
Two CD's (I've been wondering where that Refreshments CD was!)
One deck of cards
Three ball-point pens - two blue, one green
One paperback novel - Another Roadside Attraction by Tom Robbins (excellent book, btw)
One worry stone
Two double A batteries
A large, pointy screw (ah...shaddap!)
One roll of cellophane tape
An acorn (I have no idea...)
Three more packs of gum
Two butane lighters
One pack of matches
A flask (doesn't everyone carry a flask?)
One bottle of silver sparkle nail polish
Two more pair of sunglasses
A pack of shoelaces
Four bottles of medication (actually, they probably belong in the necessities group)
A packet of DayQuil cold medication
Two more key chains - woo hoo!
One wine bottle cork (honestly, officer...I haven't the slightest idea how that got there)
One Japanese good luck coin
One container of hand cream
One toothbrush
One spool of dental floss
One pair of gold earrings (I've been looking for those, too)
One silver heart necklace

Yikes.

My purse is now much lighter - and much emptier.
But I feel better...

The Keys to My Undoing

2008-11-24T16:57:00.000-08:00

I dropped my keys this afternoon.

I think I broke my toe.

Seriously.

If there is such a thing as a contest for the most crap on a keyring, I believe I could be a contender. It's ridiculous, I tell you. The fact that I can still manage to lose my keys is baffling to me...

I have all of nine keys...that's it. The rest of this conglomeration is assorted junk.

Red baubles, The Horde symbol, a fob from the local radio station (I used to work for them), lip gloss, a brass egg, a jar of sand from Cuba, a glow-in-the-dark spiky ball, a War-Amps tag....

There must be some kind of therapy for this.

Redundant (see: Redundant)

2008-11-23T21:10:00.000-08:00

Redundancies annoy me.

Here are a few that I have seen recently while perusing the net:

Total Abstinence

Subject Matter

Honest Truth (no, really!)

Join Together

General Public

Harbinger of Things To Come

New Initiative

Audible Gasp (because a silent gasp is just a breath)

Advance Warning

Execution-Style Killing

Future Plans

Gather Together

Jewish Synagogue (as opposed to what, exactly?)

Lag Behind

Manual Dexterity

Occasional Irregularity (don't give me that crap)

Basic Fundamentals

First Time Ever

Shrug One's Shoulders (what else are you gonna shrug...hmmm?)

And then...then there is Redundancy in action!

Behold and be amazed.

To Be or Not

2008-11-21T20:49:00.000-08:00

Below you will find a clip from the movie Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead. This is possibly my favourite movie of all time. I know many of you are not Shakespeare fans - but you don't have to be to appreciate the simple genius of the words spoken.

This particular clip is a parody on Hamlet's 'To Be or Not To Be' soliloquy...only it is far better in my opinion.

If you haven't seen the movie - do yourself a favor. It is incredibly funny, intelligent, and has a phenomenal cast including Gary Oldman, Tim Roth and Richard Dreyfuss.

"Whatever became of the moment when one
first knew about death?
There must have been one - a moment.
As a child; when it first occurred to you
that you don’t go on forever.
It must have been shattering...
stamped into one’s memory -
and yet, I can’t remember it.
It never occurred to me at all.

We must be born with an intuition of mortality -
before we know the word for it.
Before we know that there are words...
Out we come, bloodied and squalling;
with the knowledge that for all
the points on the compass, there is only one direction -
and time is its only measure."

Chili Weather

2008-11-20T20:45:00.000-08:00

I made chili for supper tonight.

I love chili, especially on days like this. It's cold and snowing - and chili is warm and satisfying.

More often than not when I make chili, I will buy bread bowls to serve it in. Less dishes, and yummy bread to boot. However, I didn't have a vehicle today - so no bread bowls.

I decided to make beer muffins with cheese and bacon instead. They are absolutely delicious, and go exceptionally well with chili. Not only that - they are the easiest thing in the world to make.

Trust me - people will think you're a frickin' kitchen genius with these babies.

Check it out:

Three cups all-purpose flour
Five teaspoons baking powder
Three quarters of a teaspoon of salt
Four tablespoons of white sugar
One half cup of cooked, crumbled bacon
One cup grated cheddar cheese
One bottle of beer
Two tablespoons melted butter

Preheat oven to 350F and grease muffin tins.
Measure dry ingredients into bowl.
Stir in bacon and cheese and pour beer over top, stirring to blend.
Spoon into pans & brush tops with melted butter.
Bake for 15-20 minutes or until tops are golden brown.
Makes 9 lg muffins.

The KY Incident

2008-11-19T21:32:00.000-08:00

Because Jen was kind enough to mention it in her comment on yesterday's post - I will relate to you the KY Incident. (it's not as bad as you think...or maybe it is...ah well)

Before The Man and I got married, he was determined to find out just how much he could embarrass me before I'd either 1) leave him or 2) kill him. He never thought for even a moment that I could hold my own against him.

Anyway...

It was Hell Thursday (the day before Good Friday) and we were in one of our city's largest pharmacies, purchasing Laura Secord chocolate eggs for my niece and nephew (and myself, of course). Now, being the day before the chocolate holiday, the place was packed with people as this was one of the few places in town to carry the best quality goodies. To say the lines at the check-outs were long would be a tremendous understatement.

So, standing in line, I turned to say something to The Man, only to realize he'd disappeared. Nothing new, really...men have a tendency to wander off when bored, right?

Suddenly, above the noise of the people, the cash registers, the crying children, I hear my soon-to-be husband's usually subdued voice bellow from across the store: "Hey Honey...THIS ONE???"

Looking over the heads of the people behind me in line, I see The Man standing in the middle of the store holding over his head the biggest damned tube of KY Jelly I have ever seen! Honestly, this thing was HUGE! Needless to say, his outburst and his choice of product attracted the attention of most of the patrons and employees in the store.

All eyes turned from him to me...

My first thought was 'you son-of-a-so-and-so...I'm gonna kill you'. But then, from the beneath the waves of embarrassment and seething rage came a calm voice...the voice of revenge.

I fixed The Man with a vengeful stare and shouted back "Noooo....That's not the flavour you like!!"

Laughter erupted around me and indeed, the entire store. The Man disappeared down an aisle like his butt was on fire.

When he reappeared he was sans lube and his ears were almost purple (that's how he blushes).

Walking by me as he made his way quickly out of the store, he leaned in to whisper to me "...good one."

He's never tried anything like that since.

He knows better.

Shopping Shenanigans

2008-11-18T19:33:00.001-08:00

Finding myself in need of certain household necessities (garbage bags, dish washing soap, etc) I made a foray into the local hell that is Walmart.

This time of year, I like to avoid shopping all together - especially places such as Walmart. There is Christmas music, trees, ornaments, lights, candles, cards, and all the poofery that goes along with this overblown holiday.

The toy department has grown exponentially in the past week to take over a good quarter of the damned store - and everywhere there are whiny, sniveling children begging their blank-staring parents for every single thing on the shelves.

I hate Christmas. Bah-freakin'-humbug!

It is a joy, however, to shop with The Man in times such as these.

Being neither a parent, nor sympathetic to their plight, he takes great pleasure in grabbing whatever toy some poor, bedraggled mother has ripped from her child's hand after saying 'NO' for the fortieth time, and putting it in our cart...while making Nyaaaa faces at the child who then loses his mind completely. Of course, I dump the toy out on the next aisle - and The Man moves on to his next taunting victim.

Another place he likes to do this is in the grocery store. The cereal aisle being the best place for this sort of thing. Usually, the child is trapped in the cart - facing backward so that he or she can see The Man do a little victory dance as he puts the Cocoa Puffs, Cap'n Crunch or whatever into our cart - again with the child throwing a small conniption fit...and the mother is none-the-wiser.

My favourite game whilst shopping is to throw random things in other people's carts. Not big things, mind you. A Twenty kilo bag of dog chow is liable to arouse suspicion. Just small things...condoms, corn pads, flea collars...that kinda thing. Of course, I don't do it often - and I usually reserve this for people I know. Usually...

So...as much as I loathe shopping, at least there are these small glimmers of glee.

In Your Facebook!

2008-11-16T18:55:00.001-08:00

Facebook sucks.

There. I said it.

I used to have a facebook account.

I got tired of stupid, unsolicited emails, getting poked, pinched or whatever the newest thing was at the time, and I really hated people wanting me to join this group or that group.

Don't care what you're into...leave me out of it. So you like fuzzy bunny slippers - big deal. Doesn't mean I want to join your fuzzy bunny slipper group just because I happen to know who you are. And do I really know who you are? You and I met once (I think) at a friend of a friend's 30th birthday party. Weren't you the one throwing up in the begonias?

And please...for the love of all that is holy - stop with the wall-writing thing. Electronic graffiti has none of the risk or artistic merit of actual graffiti. Besides, it's not like you can actually spray paint YOUR HOCKEY TEAM SUCKS ROCKS on someone's facebook page now is it?

Instead of Facebook, I offer the following. I think it would be a much better use of people's time, effort and creativity.

Hell, I'd belong to this.

You would too...and you know it.

November Rain

2008-11-15T08:07:00.000-08:00

It's Saturday...and it's raining.

Could be worse, I suppose. Considering the date, it could be snowing. I guess I can take comfort in the rain. At least I don't have to shovel that.

Days like this always make me want to just stay put. Laze around the house, read a good book and enjoy the sound of the rain. Warmer days and summer rains require a walk around the marina or maybe the local park - but at this time of year, that's just asking for pneumonia.

I had plans today - but I can feel them falling apart as I type this.

There is always tomorrow...at least in theory.

If ever there was a day to listen to this, it is today. I'm not the biggest GnR fan - but I always found this particular song to be haunting and somewhat mesmerizing. I think I'll put it on an endless loop, take my book, my cats and my coffee cup and curl up on the couch.

November Rain - Guns and Roses

When I look into your eyes
I can see a love restrained
But darlin' when I hold you
Don't you know I feel the same

Nothin' lasts forever
And we both know hearts can change
And it's hard to hold a candle
In the cold November rain

We've been through this such a long long time
Just tryin' to kill the pain

But lovers always come and lovers always go
An no one's really sure who's lettin' go today
Walking away

If we could take the time
to lay it on the line
I could rest my head
Just knowin' that you were mine
All mine
So if you want to love me
then darlin' don't refrain
Or I'll just end up walkin'
In the cold November rain

Do you need some time...on your own
Do you need some time...all alone
Everybody needs some time...
on their own
Don't you know you need some time...all alone

I know it's hard to keep an open heart
When even friends seem out to harm you
But if you could heal a broken heart
Wouldn't time be out to charm you

Sometimes I need some time...on my
own
Sometimes I need some time...all alone
Everybody needs some time...
on their own
Don't you know you need some time...all alone

And when your fears subside
And shadows still remain
I know that you can love me
When there's no one left to blame
So never mind the darkness
We still can find a way
Nothin' lasts forever
Even cold November rain

Don't ya think that you need somebody
Don't ya think that you need someone
Everybody needs somebody
You're not the only one

The Name Game

2008-11-13T17:21:00.000-08:00

I wonder sometimes where we get the names of things.

I have a physical condition which requires me to take medication for pain. These medications are referred to by my doctor and pharmacist as 'pain pills'. Doesn't that sound like they cause pain? I already have pain...I want relief pills.

The same can be said about the Fire Department. Sounds like they set fires, doesn't it? It should be called the Extinguishing Department. The Bomb Squad sounds like a terrorist organization to me.

Don't even get me started on things like 'wrinkle cream'...

Remember This

2008-11-11T05:43:00.001-08:00

November 11th is Remembrance Day, or Veterans' Day to our southerly neighbours.

Today, we set aside a moment from our day-to-day lives to remember those who gave theirs in order that we might be able to live as we do.

A solemn occasion, and yet a celebration as well.

I live a stone's throw from the largest Military Base in Canada, CFB Petawawa. In my time, I have seen and taken part in many Remembrance Day ceremonies.

All across the country, cenotaphs and war memorials will be packed with War Vets, government officials, military brigades and scads of civilians. Wreaths will be laid, moving speeches will be said, the bagpipes will play. It's very emotional.

Eventually, the poem In Flanders Fields will be read - usually by some middle school-aged child who will read it like he/she was reading Old Mother Hubbard.

Yes, it's a poem. Yes, it's written in rondeau form. Doesn't mean it was meant to be read that way. This is one of the most beautiful, stark and moving pieces of prose ever written. It wrenches my heart whenever I read it - and it makes my blood boil when I hear it orally presented with all the emotion of a weather report.

For your consideration, allow me to print the poem as I believe it should be read. Perhaps then you will understand what I mean. Take note of punctuation - it makes all the difference in the world.

In Flanders field the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row, that mark our place;
And in the sky, the lark, still bravely singing
Fly scarce heard amidst the guns below

We are the dead.
Short days ago we lived, felt dawn, saw sunset's glow;
Loved, and were loved.
And now we lie in Flanders Fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe!
To you, from failing hands we throw the torch;
Be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die -
We shall not sleep;
Though poppies grow
In Flanders Field

-Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae

Battitude

2008-11-10T07:25:00.000-08:00

There are phrases that people use everyday that just don't seem to make a lot of sense to me. Common usage makes them acceptable and ordinary - but sometimes, they just strike a strange chord with me. And that makes my mind wonder...and wander.

I was talking to The Man yesterday. He was telling me about some guy who nearly killed him on his way home from work because the guy blew through a four-way stop intersection going 'like a bat out of Hell'.

How do we know how fast a bat would leave Hell? He might fly really slow. In fact, why should we assume that a bat would even want to leave Hell? Maybe he likes it there. Perhaps Hell is just right for a bat. Maybe it's bat Heaven!

And while we're on the subject - how do we know there are bats in Hell in the first place? What would a bat be doing in Hell? Bats are usually in the belfry, aren't they? Why would they want to split their time between two places?

Then again, maybe that's why he's in such a hurry to get out of Hell...he's due back at the belfry.

The Prick...er...Price is Right

2008-11-09T10:46:00.001-08:00

The Home Shopping networks are a true evil in society today.

Never before has such crap been available to so many people in the comfort of their own homes.

Crystal-encrusted teapots, cashmere lampshades, talking fridge magnets...you name it, you can get it. (not that you want it - but you can get it)

Personally, I cannot abide home shopping channels. Not even rampant insomnia can force me to watch them. But every so often, I find things like this - and I wonder what I have been missing.

Aw...Puck.

2008-11-08T13:47:00.000-08:00

Checking the hockey schedule today, I see that my beloved NY Islanders are playing the Pittsburgh Penguins.

Ugh.

Bad enough they are on the bottom of the Eastern Conference and the entire NHL standings at the moment - but now they get to battle the Penguins and the mighty Crosby.

Would someone just shoot me, please?

Although the Isles have done poorly in the past, I believe that this year's early slump is a downward slide that seems unstoppable. Garth Snow (GM) and Scott Gordon (Head Coach) made some poor choices in the off-season; trading away some of the better depth players - I can only assume for financial reasons.

It's painful to watch them now.

The fact that they won the other night only makes me more frustrated as it gives me a spark of hope...one that will be quickly doused, I'm sure.

I'm actually torn as to whether I want to watch the game tonight or not. I probably won't - but will listen to it via the net. That way, I can take out my frustrations on some poor innocent Scrabble opponent.

Maybe I should join The Man and cheer for the Maple Leafs. Hahahaha...!

I'm depressed...but I'm not stupid.

At least the Isles have won 4 cups in a row...in MY lifetime!!!

Yes...at the moment (and probably for the remainder of the season), the Islanders suck canal water. But at least they aren't the Maple Leafs. 1967, kids. That's the last time Lord Stanley's trophy made it to Toronto.

I feel better now.

November 9: We lost...surprise, surprise.

Cereal Killer

2008-11-06T08:09:00.000-08:00

I'm not much of a breakfast person.

Coffee.
More coffee.
That's breakfast.
(it's usually snack, lunch and often supper, too)

I have been trying harder of late to change my eating habits. When I do eat breakfast, it's normally something terribly good for me - like an Oh Henry bar or a handful of Oreos - along with the mandatory coffee, of course.

So, I bought a few different kinds of cereal the other day - variety being the key, so I've been told.
Special K, Corn Flakes, Harvest Crunch and Shreddies. There are Fruit Loops, but they aren't mine - they belong to The Man. I wouldn't dream of eating them anyway...they look like some kind of nightmarish mardi gras necklace exploded. Someday I'll tell you about my "Fruit Loops are the Food of the Antichrist" theory...but not now.

Anyway - coffee happily perking away, I armed myself with the required implements for a healthy breakfast; that being a bowl, a spoon and the milk jug. I looked into the pantry cupboard at my four cardboard-encased choices. They all looked equally unappealing. I grabbed the closest one to me. Shreddies. Diamond Shreddies at that. (don't even get me started...)

I turned the box on its side - "100% Whole Grain Wheat!". I turned it over to the French side of the box. "Blé Entier de Grain!"

Blé.

Yup...that sounds delicious.

Oreos, anyone?

The Many Faces of Insanity

2008-11-04T13:52:00.000-08:00

Yes, yes...it's time for one more introduction to yet another of my WoW companions.

This is Totemmaster.

He's a shaman. He's also insane. But I love him.

Known as Andrew when he's not at the computer - which is rarely. Like me, I'm sure that even in real life he has learned to answer to his characters' names.
(I still get called Cord...and I still answer to it)

Another alternate junkie, I first met Totemmaster, or Tote, as I call him, on his sexy-beast rogue known as Oradis. I was just a young and impressionable warrior then....level 20 something I believe. We were introduced in a place known as Scarlet Monastery. A great place to earn gear and materials for advancement.

Oradis ruled the battlegrounds for ages at level 29, until one fateful night...when he leveled without wanting to. I can only imagine that he now terrorizes the Alliance at level 39.

I personally spent days on end farming a Gnome pit for a particular pair of leggings for Oradis - because it was essential that he have the best gear. The things I do ...honestly.

Anyway, Andrew also started a rogue to level to 70 with the strange name of Cuddlesworth. Nothing like being pwned (yes...I said pwned - cut me some slack) by someone with a name like that. Cuddles is now level 70 and terrorizing everything while mounted on his netherwing drake.

Cuddles and I tore up Outlands together. I was leveling a hunter at the time, known as Idun. We had great adventures...getting squashed by the fel reaver...bombing the crap out of things...good times, good times.

I have heard that there is a female warrior amongst his alts now...(I would like to say I had something to do with that...but I can't). She is probably just as crazy/ballsy/mouthy as the rest of Andrew's toons...and I wouldn't want it any other way.

Andrew is a great player, a fun guy to hang with, and a great friend...he's also an artist. Not just on the battlegrounds either...I mean a real-live artist!! How sweet is that?

Someday, I'm going back to Azeroth...because I miss hanging out with Tote and the gang. Not only that - he has all my money!

High School Confidential

2008-11-03T11:45:00.000-08:00

Recently, I ran into someone I knew in high school. Not a friend per se, as I didn't have many of those; but someone I had shared several classes with over my four years in hell.

She asked me why I had chosen not to attend the recent high school reunion. Of the boundless and valid answers I could have given, I simply shrugged and said I didn't feel like it.

This wasn't a lie. I truly had no desire to see people whom I didn't particularly like then gloating and preening with their accordion-fold picture collections of their prize-winning children.

Bitter, you say?

Not in the least.
As much as they were choosy in who they accepted into their midst, I was just as choosy about who I hung with...although not for the same reasons.

Twenty years doesn't really change people all that much in the long run. Most of the girls who excluded me from their circles in high school would most certainly exclude me from their country clubs, charity drives and church groups today. I'd like to say I'm choked up about that...but I'd be lying.

My small but close-knit group of odd and outcast friends has pretty much stayed intact over the years. We keep in touch, though we are spread all over the country now. We aren't fastidious about contact - but we do communicate - thanks to the internet. There are a few who have fallen out of sight...one or two who have fallen all together.

I need no organized event to remind me of who I was - and who others were as well. Nor do I need to attempt to validate my existence and accomplishments to those who did and still do practice one-upmanship as a sport.

High school.
Bad enough the first time around, I think.
Why waste 15 years of therapy just to get a t-shirt and a whole new complex?

It All Adds Up

2008-11-01T16:32:00.000-07:00

I play Scrabble.

A lot.

Competitive Scrabble, that is.

If you are looking for a friendly game, I am not your girl. I play to keep my mind occupied, my vocabulary honed, and the opportunity to be chastised and berated by strangers. What can I say? I'm a strange string bean.

Often, to amuse myself while waiting for my opponent to take their turn, I will look at words and mentally add up their point value. Not words on the board...just words in general. Words on the nearby newspaper(16 points) for example(18 points).

Anyway..
(15 points)

I was playing against some supposed wunderkind yesterday and was getting more than a little frustrated at his use of small words which clutter the board and box things in. A fine strategy near the end of the game, but a pain in the posterior in the opening few rounds.

Muttering to myself, I called him an asshole, which was unladylike, but it's not like he could hear me.

Then it hit me...!

Asshole: A (1) S(1) S(1) H(4) O(1) L(1) E(1) = 10 pts...!!!

How sweet is that???

I can now call anyone I want an asshole without being one myself. I just have to tell them they are a perfect 10! They think I've given them a compliment, and I get the smug self-satisfaction of cleverly insulting them.

I need a new hobby.

I guess I really am a 10...

..

After a Fashion

2008-10-22T08:00:00.001-07:00

Today's weather forecast is cold and damp. I try to dress for the weather these days as I am more concerned with being warm than with looking 'cool'.

Most mornings like this, I step out of the shower, blow-dry my hair to make it look a little less like the firestorm it tends to resemble, don a pair of jeans and my hoodie.

Thus, my problem begins.

The very word 'hoodie' makes me wince. It makes me think of cute teenagers with perfect and pert little bodies in their oh-so-trendy togs. I feel like a reupholstered impostor. A cougar in sheep's clothing, if you will. I try to kid myself by calling it a sweatshirt...with a hood. It is not a hoodie. The fact that it has a rhino and the Ecko logo emblazoned on it really doesn't help me with my self-delusion, mores the pity.

Being 39, I fear that I am beyond a large percentage of contemporary fashion. This is a good thing, for the most part. Trust me - no one wants to see this body in clingy cashmere or, god forbid, a cinch belt.

The catalogs that show up weekly in my mailbox cause me to roll my eyes and chuckle heartily. Welcome back to 1984, folks. Had I known back then that this crap would come back in style...well, I probably would have thrown it all out anyway. It didn't look good on me the first time around - and my body didn't get any better with age.
A fine wine I am not.
I'm more of a rootbeer float.

I now have to consider what is 'age-appropriate' as far as clothing. There are some obvious choices I don't even have to worry about; hipsters and baby-doll tees, for example. Even when I was the right age for that kind of thing (somewhere between 9 and 11), I wouldn't have been caught dead in them. Yet I do see women my age and older pouring their wrinkles and cellulite into skin tight low-rider jeans and and cropped sweaters.
Icky.
I mean, I admire their moxie... but fear for their sanity.

I also need not worry about carrying a micro-purse, cellphone charms, shoe jewelry or a miniscule dog. Some fashion trends are just plain stupid no matter how old you are.

Don't get me wrong - I hate the self-appointed Fashion Police - and I am yet to view a television program or read an interview with any of these Style Nazis that would make me trust them enough to tie my running shoes, let alone pick out an outfit for me. Most, if not all of them look like starving kittens with sprayed on tans wearing more labels than my grandmother's canning cupboard...and they're vacuous to boot.

I guess it all comes down to what you feel comfortable in and what looks good on you.

Maybe Goldie Hawn can still look fabulous walking the red carpet in a strapless white dress with sequins and fringe at the age of sixty-two. Then again, she can still stop traffic just by flashing her legs. I could probably stop traffic with my legs too...if I cut them off and tossed them into the street. However, horrific and fabulous don't quite compare.

So...back to my sweatshirt with the hood.
Yes, it's trendy...and yes, I'm probably far too old to enjoy it or wear it as much as I do. But at least I'm not showing off thong strings, navel rings and other age-inappropriate attire. If anything, I'm covering a multitude of sins...

Collecting My Thoughts

2008-10-21T00:44:00.000-07:00

My best friend Jen recently posted on her blog about her collection of scissors. As an avid cross-stitcher, this seems like a fairly reasonable thing to collect.

Most of the people I know collect something. The Man collects hats. Not baseball caps, mind. Hats. Expensive ones. He also collects swords. My mother collected angels. Another friend of mine collects dragonflies, my aunt collects key chains...you get the idea. It seems that we all grow attached to some things and decide for some reason or other to collect them.

Personally, I collect a few different things. My house is filled with dragons. I have collected dragons and all things dragon-like for a long time. I also collect gargoyles, bats, turtles and run a wild-life game preserve for dust-bunnies...but that is more of a hobby.

The collection I am most known for though, is my collection of watches. I love watches. I have 72 watches - and it is not enough. I do not believe there is such a thing as too many watches.

Why watches, you ask? Well, one year for my birthday I was asked what I would like. I informed those that inquired that I would like a watch. On the day of my birthday, I received nine watches. I was thrilled - and an obsession was born.

Recently, I went through my watches to replace batteries in those that needed changing. Below, you will find pictures of said timepieces. This isn't quite half of my collection.

The Man says that my jewelry box (which stands just over 4 feet high) sounds like a nest of crickets. Of course, it doesn't help that my jewelry box is on his side of the room. (heh heh)

Behold.

yeah, well...

2008-10-19T14:15:00.000-07:00

October Offerings

2008-10-18T13:03:00.000-07:00

I love October.

The days are cool, clear and bright - the nights chilly and crisp. There's leaves everywhere and the bare trees make a beautifully stark silhouette against the autumn moon.

But most of all, I like October because it is the best time of year for fruit. Apples, pumpkins, concord grapes and pears are in every grocery store at more than reasonable prices. Of course, this means one thing to me: Baking.

I have been baking a lot lately. Besides the pies that I made for Thanksgiving, I have baked a few apple crisp, a dozen pumpkin loaves, pumpkin cookies, apple coffee cake, and today have plans for a pumpkin cheesecake. I also have a few dozen pears sitting on my counter that I have not yet decided the fate of. I may poach them in brandy...or more likely, just slice them and eat them with homemade caramel sauce for dessert tonight.

There's just something about this time of year that makes baking more enjoyable. The heavy scents of cinnamon, nutmeg, cloves and ginger fill my home - all mingling well with the ever-present smell of brewing coffee.

The only drawback to all this baking is that I need to rearrange my freezer. Blah. Looks like I'll be creating leftover masterpieces for a while. Ah well, small price to pay in the long run.

If you're in the area, stop in for coffee - and something warm and yummy.

Holier Than Thou

2008-10-17T14:17:00.000-07:00

cue music~

*lights*

Yes, welcome one and all to another exciting episode of Meet The Horde!!

Today, I introduce to you the often-mentioned Drachma. His Grace; Demi-god of the Undead, Priest of Prestige and Power, Hallowed Healer, Battle Ground Master and just plain good friend.

His Grace and I met way back when...like waaay back when. I was a fairly new member of The Broken and was working my way through the hellish zone known as Arathi. I had to kill a rock giant known as Fozruk - and desperately needed help. Group quests are always a pain in the butt - and this one was no exception.

Drachma was the first to answer my plea for help from within the guild. Others came, including the guild master and his good lady wife - but to have a healer come to your aid without having to be cajoled is always a big bonus.

And thus, a friendship was born.

I have spent many sleepless nights questing, chatting and joking with His Grace. Wise beyond his years, he is more than quick-witted and keeps me on my bloody toes - and is far too ready to 'pun' me into submission should I step out of line. Drachma is also a cake aficionado...a big plus in my books.

Being an avid player, Drachma has many alternate characters including a kick-ass Tauren Druid named Xiphoss, Indubiously - a well-named Blood Elf Paladin, and a Hunter known as DNR, also of the Blood Elf race. I have had the distinct pleasure of questing and funning about with all of these characters. But of the many faces he wears, Drachma, the undead priest, will forever be my favourite.

I try to keep in touch with His Grace on a semi-regular basis. University student that he is, I don't like to disturb him too much for fear of interrupting his studies (or his endless pursuit of fame and glory on the battlegrounds.)

I offer my thanks to the greater powers who saw it fit to bless me with such a good friend, and thanks be to Googletalk for the ability to stay in the loop with him.

The Man.

The Legend.

Celebration Time!!

2008-10-16T20:11:00.000-07:00

~ahem~

JEN PASSED HER TEST!!!!

Woo-freakin'-hooo!!!

Drinks are on me!
Actually, they are...I spilled my coffee when she told me. Note to self: do not dance while holding hot beverages.

Anyone in need of a good Real Estate Appraiser, let me know...I'll give you Jen's number.

(she's cute too, by the way...in case there's anything else you'd like appraised)

Way to go, Jen!

I knew you could do it.

Musically Yours

2008-10-12T11:33:00.000-07:00

Recently, I have been exchanging music with my friends. New music, old music...a little bit of everything. Thanks to the wonders of Google Talk, passing music and photo files back and forth is an absolute breeze. Seriously, if you haven't downloaded this program - do yourself a favor and get it.

Anyway.

To me, music is one of the most important things in existence. It enhances every joy and fills every emotional void in my life. Music speaks for me when I haven't the words to express myself, and as is often the case, a song or segment thereof can say it better than I ever could.

When I was in college, I had an amazing Psychology professor who gave us what at first appeared to be a simple assignment: What Song Describes You Best?

I say it sounded simple - but after going through the hundreds and hundreds of songs that I could identify with, I found myself torn. There were a few songs that truly seemed as though they had been written just for me...and for the way I viewed myself.

It came down to two.

At Seventeen, by Janis Ian and Man in the Wilderness, by Styx

There were many others whose lyrics were fitting in many ways...but these were the two that I felt had me pegged.

After much deliberation and hours of listening to scads of music, I went with Man in the Wilderness. It's lyrics are beautifully depressing, but it's melody keeps it from the depths of despair it describes. If you don't know it, check it out. You'll probably learn a little more about me in the process. Yes, the lyrics say 'man' in the wilderness - but we are all of the race of man, after all.

So, my friends, I pose to you the same question: What song describes YOU best? I ask because I'm truly interested - and I want to know.

MAN IN THE WILDERNESS (Styx, Grand Illusion, 1977)

Another year has passed me by, still I look at myself and cry
What kind of man have I become
All of the years I've spent in search of myself
But I'm still in the dark because I
Can't seem to find the light alone

Sometimes I feel like a man in the wilderness
I'm a lonely soldier off to war
Sent away to die...never quite knowing why
Sometimes it makes no sense at all

Ten thousand people look my way, but they can't see the way that I feel
Nobody even cares to try
I spend my life and sell my soul on the road
but I'm still in the dark because I
Can't seem to find the light alone

Sometimes I feel like a man in the wilderness
I'm a lonely sailor lost at sea
Tipping with the tide...and never quite knowing why
Sometimes it makes no sense at all

(I'm Alive!)
Looking for love, I'm a man with emotion
(My heart's on fire!)
I'm dying of thirst in the middle of the ocean
(I'm Alive.....)

Sometimes I feel like a man in the wilderness
I'm a lonely soldier off to war
Sent away to die...never quite knowing why
Sometimes it makes no sense at all
It makes no sense at all
Can't find the meaning of it all

There Goes the Neighbourhood

2008-10-11T07:35:00.001-07:00

The house across the street from ours has been for sale for over a year. Harry, The elderly gentleman who lived there previously, fell ill and has since become a resident of a local nursing home. I miss Harry - he was a wonderful man. The house was subsequently put on the real estate market, and since then, I have watched a steady train of people inspect it every weekend.

This particular home has been well-maintained over its many years. It is built of sturdy brick, has a spacious, treed yard, and the house is covered in virginia creeper ivy - giving it that Olde English look. Like most of the houses in my neighbourhood, it was built some time in the early nineteen-hundreds. Our house is over one hundred years old itself.

I noticed the other day that the 'For Sale' sign had been removed from the front lawn. This is nothing new around here as people change real estate companies frequently. But a new sign didn't appear - and soon, moving trucks began to arrive.

Load after load of furniture was taken into the house. Tasteful furniture at that. I admired what looked very much like an antique cherry wood dining set as it was carried through the door by the not-so-bad-looking movers. (hey...just because I'm chained to the porch, doesn't mean I can't bark at the cars!) From what I could glean, our new neighbours seemed to have taste and culture.

Looking out the window later in the afternoon, I was suddenly taken aback by a complete incongruity. There was something dreadfully wrong about the way Harry's house looked now. (it will always be Harry's house to me.)

Over the old art-deco door of the garage (a 1960's addition, no doubt) was an eyesore that made me want to weep.

A basketball net.

So much for taste and culture.

Turkey Time

2008-10-10T11:24:00.001-07:00

It's Friday.

Not only that - it's the Friday of Thanksgiving weekend for we folks of the True North Strong and Free.

Turkeys, sweet potatoes, and sugar beets are on sale in every grocery store. The liquor store is packed to the rafters with dark and heavy beers, luscious vintage wines (suitable for poultry faire), and the bakeries are overflowing with pumpkin pies and their ilk.

I love Thanksgiving. It's like Christmas - without the credit card bills.

Yes, I know that this time of year we are reminded to count our blessings and all the good things we have in life. I personally am thankful for the internet, and for the ability to keep in touch with those who are far from me. You know who you are...and you know I love you.

But for me, the holidays are first and foremost about FOOD.

There is nothing more satisfying in my opinion, than a full roasted turkey dinner with all the trimmings. Turkey, golden brown and succulent. Savory stuffing with celery, onions and pecans...rich gravy...homemade cranberry sauce...mashed potatoes...sweet potatoes...fresh corn...cauliflower and/or broccoli...freshly baked crusty rolls. Desserts of delicious pumpkin pie...apple cobbler...classic cheesecake with berries and caramel...rich coffee and liqueur...

....and a shit load of damned dishes. (I hate when reality kicks in, don't you?)

Sadly, the man and I are having none of the above this year. He has to work over the holiday, and although I would love to do the full turkey thing, I have no desire to go to that much trouble for just the two of us. A meal like that is meant to be shared...and this year, there is no one to share it with.

So, it looks like we'll be having turkey of a different sort.
Flakes of turkey.
Mmm mm good.

I did, however, make pies.

To my Canadian friends, I bid you all a Happy Thanksgiving. And to my American friends, I wish you a happy weekend.

Who's That Girl?

2008-10-08T14:35:00.000-07:00

Yes, it's another exciting episode of Meet the Horde.

Today, I introduce to you a very good friend. She is known to many, although no one can say for certain just how many characters this girl has.

An Alternate Toon addict, she is always trying something new - or, more truthfully, always looking for more bank space.

I am, of course, speaking of Aesdestina: (aka Aes/Nood or more rightly, Sabrina). Mighty and magestic blood-elf hunter, owner of the much-coveted spirit wolf.

Aesdestina and I got to know each other shortly after I joined my former guild - The Broken. She helped me out quite a bit with some of my quests and was always willing to offer advice and dungeon runs for much-needed gear.

When I formed Facta Non Verba with DD (another person I hope to introduce some day), Aes was the first to come over and take up residence with us. We were happy to have her as she had something neither DD or I did; leadership experience.

Sabrina has been playing WoW as long as anyone I know. Like me, she has played for both factions and prefers Horde. (like any person with a brain) She is an awesome player on all of her toons. She has many, as previously mentioned, but usually sticks to her Hunter, or her Warlock, Mirarose.

Aes taught me how to be a better warrior, how to be an effective hunter, and we even tore up a lot of evil trolls in Stranglethorn Vale when Mirarose was a lowbie and so was my priest. (yes, I was an alternate junkie too...)

When I gave up leadership of Facta, Aesdestina was the obvious choice for Guildmaster. She was almost always available, she was knowledgeable on most things, and she was always willing to lend a hand. She made a much better leader than I ever did, and Facta was better for it.

I keep in touch with Sabrina on an almost daily basis. She's a great friend and is always willing to chat about whatever. Her daughter is an endless source of amusement, and Sabrina often tells me of the joys and frustrations of being a mother.

Hanging out with Aes/Mira was always fun - and we usually just sat around talking or throwing copious snowballs around Orgrimmar. I miss that...but I am very pleased to still have Sabrina in my life, even if only in the 'real world'.

For your consideration, I give you Sabrina/Aesdestina/Mirarose

What Are You Doing Here

2008-10-06T22:37:00.000-07:00

My hit counter amazes me.

Almost 400 hits...

Who Are You People? And for the love of cheese...what are you doing here?

(yay for Dr.Who and Asperger's Syndrome!!)

Cake-ophony

2008-10-05T11:52:00.001-07:00

Cake.

Is there anything more perfect? I don't think so.

Of all the comestibles one can create, only cake is so perfect that people will find any excuse to celebrate in order to partake of its goodness. Birthday cake, wedding cake, anniversary cake, christening cake...the list goes on and on.

I have often been invited to parties and get-togethers for this reason or that, and usually only have one question. Will There Be Cake? If the answer is yes, more often than not, I'll make an appearance. I mean, after all...free cake!

I baked not one but two cakes this passed weekend. One mocha-pecan number with rich chocolate icing, and a caramel apple coffee cake. Both of which are delicious and disappearing rapidly.

Cake. Comfort food of the gods.

Marie Antoinette may have been misunderstood when she said 'Let them eat cake'...but I take her words to heart. I do eat cake. Often.

The comic below was sent to me some time ago by His Grace, Drachma. It's from Penny Arcade Comics (one of the best web-comics out there) It's nice to be understood by friends. =)

Happy Sunday, everyone. Shall we celebrate with Cake?

Flaked Out

2008-10-03T03:42:00.000-07:00

I was freezing last night as I sat watching TV with The Man.

Being loathe to close the windows and admit that summer is indeed over, I huddled under a blanket and sipped hot chocolate, trying desperately to convince myself that I wasn't cold.

Finally, my extremities could take it no longer. I closed and sealed the windows and turned on the furnace. The smell of dust came up the vents as usual when the heat is turned on for the first time in months. The Man sneezed and complained.

I glanced out the window as I walked back to my chair in the living room.

It started to snow outside.

Damn.

I wonder if I had just put on another sweater, would it still have snowed?

These are the thoughts that keep me up at night.

Reality Checks and Balances

2008-10-01T23:28:00.000-07:00

I was in an interesting store the other day.

Large displays of intricate calligraphy sets, scrimshaw artwork, handmade candles laced with gold dust. The kind of store that makes me wish I had actual money. I wandered about, looking at this and that...it was all very beautiful.

I picked up a book from a display table because the title caught my attention:
How To Live Forever or Die Trying by Brian Appleyard. This is what the back cover said:

"I want to live for ever" sang the Kids from Fame, and they are not alone: the search for immortality has been a constant human refrain throughout history. But medical science has improved at an exponential rate in recent decades and there are those who believe that the ability to cheat death will soon be within our reach: the first person to live to be 1,000 years old has, they say, already been born. What has happened to get people so excited about the prospect of eternal life? And if they are right, what would it mean for us as human beings? If death became negotiable, would we still fall in love or have children? Would we still, in fact, be human? HOW TO LIVE FOREVER OR DIE TRYING tackles these and myriad other questions with dazzling skill. Funny, thought-provoking and often profound, it manages to grapple with the big issues of existence without blinding the reader with science, and sheds new light on why we are the way we are.

I put the book down and, upon turning around, came face to face (so to speak) with a six foot tall watch display case and this watch:

I smiled and left the store, confident that all was right with the world.

To Everything There Is A Season

2008-09-30T00:03:00.001-07:00

Looking out my window, I gaze at the sea of fallen leaves that covers my lawn; the squirrels running back and forth, clipping the last of the wild grape from the vines along the fence. Geese gather in huge gaggles on the river, resting up for their long flight south. The raccoons feast on the frost-bitten apples still clinging to the trees. The call of the Winter's herald is heard on the night wind.

It's that time of the year again.

That time when every Canadian rummages through their closets and dressers for that one sweater. The sweater that not only keeps them warm - but announces to all and sundry who they are and what they stand for.

That's right.

It's HOCKEY SEASON!

Reclamation

2008-09-28T18:52:00.000-07:00

I recorded Aftermath: Population Zero the other night, and watched it this afternoon.

A very interesting documentary, I must say.

Synopsis:
(from the NG Website)

What would happen if every single person on Earth simply disappeared? Gone. Not dead, just gone. This is the astounding story of a world we will never see. A world without people, where city streets are still populated by cars, but without drivers. Nobody to fix bridges, repair buildings or maintain power plants. After being controlled by humanity for millennia, nature reclaims the earth. But how would that work? How long would skyscrapers, nuclear power plants, and our homes last if abandoned? How would wild and domestic animals fare without us? Will the Eiffel Tower outlast the Statue of Liberty? Aftermath: Population Zero gives us a chance to see the impact of human beings by seeing how Earth would adapt without us.

I really enjoyed this program. I sat cheering on Nature as she reclaimed her bruised and beaten body from the ravages humanity placed upon her.

If you haven't seen it, check it out.

Caveat, however. The last line in the program is trite. Very trite.

Musical Glares

2008-09-27T12:56:00.000-07:00

There is a reason that I am out of touch with today's music.

It sucks.
(my blog, my opinion...so nyaaa!)

Whilst driving my car to the dreaded Walmart this afternoon, I decided to listen to the news. I had forgotten to check the weather report - and from what I could see in the distance, we were in for a nasty storm.

So, on went the radio.

The DJ was blathering on about the radio station's contest to win tickets for the upcoming Madonna concert. (oh, be still my retching stomach) Then he said the words I was waiting to hear: "News and weather coming up."

His next statement made me wince..."But first, the latest from Kid Rock".

I considered changing stations, but couldn't be arsed. I figured I was strong enough to take it.

What I heard coming through my speakers was like a security blanket being wrapped around me. The opening piano riff from one of my all-time favourite songs, Werewolves of London. I was glad the DJ had erred on the side of taste.

Suddenly, my ears were assaulted with Kid Rock's grating voice singing (badly) about his youth and the follies thereof. The security blanket had not only been wrenched from my body, it had also taken several layers of skin with it. Then - horror of horrors - another classic song was thrown into this blender of blasphemy, Sweet Home Alabama! My ears began to bleed and my speakers wept.

I shut the radio off and considered ripping the stereo from my dashboard. I felt sick...and I saw red.

Kid Rock.
This DaVinci of Douchebaggery has, in my opinion, committed the ultimate musical rape of not one, but TWO classic songs.

There is no punishment too severe for this treachery.

I say we hunt him down, force-feed him Abba CDs until he chokes, then beat him to death with his own guitars.

Warren Zevon and Ronnie Van Zant must be avenged!!!

Who's with me???

September 26th

2008-09-26T17:22:00.000-07:00

Today is my mother's birthday.

She would have been 64 years old.

It's been almost 4 years since she died...and September 26th's don't seem to get any easier.

There isn't a day goes by that I don't want to pick up the phone to call her. Sometimes I do without thinking - and I end up having staccato conversation with my father, or worse - his wife.

Today is one of those days.

Today would have been a day for lunch and laughter...backgammon and hot gingerbread (Mom always loved my hot gingerbread). And of course, I would have sent her anthuriums - her favourite flowers. Being tropical, they had to be ordered months in advance. I had a standing order with the best florist in town for years. At least he doesn't call me anymore to confirm the delivery address.

If you have lost your Mother, as I know some of you have, then I take this opportunity to share a common sorrow.

If your Mother is still a part of your life, then I ask that you do me a favor. Call her if she is far from you - hug her if she is close...and give her one from me too.

Reluctance

Out through the fields and the woods
And over the walls I have wended;
I have climbed the hills of view
And looked at the world and descended;
I have come by the highway home,
And lo, it is ended.

The leaves are all dead on the ground,
Save those that the oak is keeping
To ravel them one by one
And let them go scraping and creeping
Out over the crusted snow,
When others are sleeping.

And the dead leaves lie huddled and still,
No longer blown hither and thither;
The last lone aster is gone;
The flowers of the witch-hazel wither;
The heart is still aching to seek,
But the feet question 'Whither?'

Ah, when to the heart of man
Was it ever less than a treason
To go with the drift of things,
To yield with a grace to reason,
And bow and accept the end
Of a love or a season?

Robert Frost

Every door that closes opens a chat window

2008-09-25T20:11:00.000-07:00

~ahem~

WORLD OF WARCRAFT

I have been forever banished from Azeroth thanks to my computer having some sort of embolism and not wanting to run the game anymore. No more does the mighty Orc Warrior, Cordyn - perched proudly on her indigo talbuk gallop through the streets of Orgrimmar shouting 'Reth! Reth! Reth!'.

After a year and a half of playing almost every day (sometimes for hours on end), it came as quite a shock. I suffered withdrawal symptoms and became the 'bitch from hell' according to my husband.

I realized after about three or four days that it wasn't the game I missed so much as the friends I had made through the game. Friendly guild chat, silly banter and just 'hanging out' with my friends. THAT was what I was missing.

Thanks to the wonders of Google Talk, my withdrawal pangs have been washed away.

I can now keep in touch with most of my WoW friends on a daily basis - joy and bliss!

Eventually, I will post about all my WoW friends - much to the dismay and boredom of all my non-WoW friends.

This particular post is about:

Matt.

Although, I first knew him as Llort.

Llort was introduced to me through the all-powerful, all-wise, mighty and mystical priest known as His Grace, Drachma. [heretofor known as His Grace or HG]
(Drachma will be featured here another time, I hope)

Llort is a female troll shaman - and a kick-ass one at that. Why guys feel the need to play female characters is anyone's guess, and I choose not to think about it too much.

Anyway, I assisted Llort occasionally as he/she moved up in level and rank within our Guild (Facta non Verba). We became fast friends as he had a very quick and dry sense of humor, much like his benefactor, HG.

Once pushed from the game by forces beyond my understanding or control, Matt was one of the first people to get in touch with me. It was good to hear from a friend within the game. Someone who would keep me abreast of the goings on and whatnot.

Matt is currently in his first year of college studying Business, and smoking cigars. (don't ask)
We talk on an almost daily basis about many things...music, books, movies, food, D&D, etc. It is amazing how well we get along considering Matt is eighteen - and I am older than dirt. He has incredible taste in music, and has introduced me to some new groups as well. He also shares my passion for stupid t-shirts.

I recently sent Matt a 'care package' seeing as he is living in residence as a starving college student. Nothing too weird, mind. Teddy Grahams, assorted candy bars, the aforementioned t-shirts, novels, condoms...the basics, ya know? What every college student needs.

It was Matt's idea that I write about him and how 'cool he is'. (that's a direct quote)

But he's right. He is cool. And so are all my other WoW friends. I hope to introduce you all to them soon.

Stress Test

2008-09-23T22:54:00.001-07:00

My best friend Jennifer is taking her Real Estate Appraiser's Exam tomorrow.

Jennifer may not be aware of just how proud I am of her, or of the amount of time and effort she has put into bettering herself and preparing for a lucrative future in the real estate market.

She is nervous - and rightly so. This test is apparently very difficult and lasts almost 8 hours, I believe.

I have talked to Jen many times over the passed two weeks or so. Listened to her as she fretted over sums and figures, her infernal calculator, distractions (of which I, sadly, am one), and countless other things. I have little advice to offer, and even less assistance as I am terrible with math. After all, I was a journalism major...and my only real talent is that I can make more varieties of fudge than anyone I know.

Still, I have faith in Jen's knowledge and dedication. As a Leo, she is headstrong and stubborn; and once she gets her teeth into something, it's not likely that she will let go until she has either conquered it, or torn it to ribbons.

My thoughts and best wishes go out to Jen.
May they bring her peace and confidence.

Bonne Chance, ma soeur-amie!
Je t'aime.