Miss Fitz's Monkey of the Week

Baby Pygmy Marmoset. Mmmm, delicious. :)
Do you not want to spread pepper and ketchup on him and eat him for breakfast? I need a baby marmoset. Someone find me a baby marmoset.

K

Woohoo!!!!

Just found out on IMDB that Dead Like Me, one of my all time favorite shows, just finished wrapping up a TV movie (!!!) and will potentially start a new season! yah!!!

Movie and possible season 3!!!

Rant time!

I like MSN. It's a mostly-reliable source of good news, entertainment and often colourfully off-the-wall articles about issues both sociological and pertinent that I would never dream up myself. This one piqued my curiousity instantly, though, soon enough, riled me enough that I felt myself obligated to share and (since this is my blog) opine on the article and explain the bile it raised in my throat. Here....I'll give you a few minutes to read it:

Starter Marriages

Done? Good.

For those too lazy to have read it, this is basically a 'relationships and dating advice" article about the "Starter Marriage": an apparent product of our current generation that is argued as a not necessarily pleasant but altogether reasonable and pragmatic extrapolation of our stubbornly and unrepentantly adolescent social mores.

The author interviews several women (but no men, curiously, though I wonder about their views of this issue) about their experiences with early and disastrous marriages in their 20s and the ways in which this was a benefit in terms of offering a "crash course" in commitment, relationships and the institution of marriage.

It is noteworthy that the interviewees, for the most part, are products of divorce themselves and thus, argues the writer, must teach themselves the values inherent in committed partnerships that they never learned from their parents. Fair enough, perhaps.

I, too, am a fucked up gen-Yer who had my nuclear family go ka-blooey (har har) on me in my teens. And yes, this has presented me with many interesting views, fears and hopes regarding marriage and commitment. It does not, however, mean that I do not believe in the institution or believe that since it's something my parents didn't stick to, that it is something to be taken lightly or "tried on" to see how it fits. And that is what bothered me and got me all self-righteous and persnickity about this article.

While I wholeheartedly agree that one should not feel obligated to remain in a relationship that is unhealthy for either or both parties and applaud people finding their own path, I feel like this is merely the start of some sort of generational "fad" where we cannot commit to homes, jobs or even friends for longer than our 20 second attention spans, let alone relationships. Which is a very sad commentary on our society and one that I don't necessarily find all that palatable. We wonder why divorce, depression, unhappiness and lack of direction are so rampant. Perhaps because we are so overwhelmed by the glut of opportunities and the lack of structure or sense of purpose that we drift aimlessly, awaiting an epiphany that will allow us to discover our true selves (though only after 30, as suspended adolescence has now led us to sequester ourselves in our parents' basements until roughly 26 years of age). What happened to having responsibilities, not only to yourself, but to others and society as a whole?

yes, to thine own self be true....but...to flit about aimlessly, indecisively figuring that, "hey, well, if this marriage thing doesn't work out, I can always get divorced," is a sickening mindset. If nothing is sacred, then everything is unimportant and disposable. Granted, I'm not a religious or traditional person. I am, in matter of fact, the exact specimen of woman interviewed in this article. I am not, however, willing to hold myself to so low a standard that I could allow myself to enter into something so self-deceptive and wholly self-involved. Regardless of what the author says in this story, it IS a selfish act. Commitment is frightening and I myself have often wondered how in the hell I could ever spend the rest of my life with the same person without going insane by year 20...but you know what? If I truly felt that way when it came down to a decision to marry...I would not. There is no "return policy" on relationships. And, god forbid, you get children involved in it, it could lead to so much grief and damage for the next generation it's not even worth getting into here.

Yes, people deserve happiness. Yes, they deserve to be able to correct their mistakes. But there is no Mulligan for marriage. There's no reset button. And if you find yourself bored and lonely and still acting like a prepubescent squealing little girl who doesn't like the idea of growing up and joining the "real" world...then, by all means: don't.

Don't fuck up yourself and others by indulging in something you cannot 100% say you want. Better to be 99% sure and walk away than 50% sure and figure there's some sort of freebie get out of jail card at the end. Life is lonely sometimes. And sometimes, despite your best efforts and intentions, it does not always go your way. And that's okay. Because it's not always about you. And you are not going to get away with living in Peter Pan land forever. So for fuck's sake, please: just grow up, or accept your limitations and try not to screw others up in the process.

Just my 10 cents.

K

Deadbeat Blogger

I know I know. I've been gone far too long. It's been a busy month. I came home from vacation, started a new job, joined a program at Grant MacEwan that I'm now taking part-time and am otherwise usually too tired or just plain not interested enough to blog. Appy-polly-logies to thee and thine. There have been a lot of things I have wanted to write about, but there was just no motivation this past month. I will be better. Promise. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some addictive Scrabulous to play on Facebook (which is, by the by, perhaps the best reason to be on Facebook in the first place!)

I'm not dead,

K

oh, and for your viewing pleasure whilst you await my next post:
Dogslide

Ahhh.....Vacation

Going to keep this short, as I will not waste one more iota of vacation time than needs be...

...am in Montreal (well, technically, Laval, but who`s counting?) for a few days and have access (finally) to a computer. Thought I could pilfer my cousin`s internet with my laptop but, sadly, am too technologically inept to properly enact said pilfering. Thus, I am using her antiquated computer to send a few heidi hos your way...

...that said, the lovely (and envy-stirring) pictures I had wished to post from my laptop will have to wait until I can either figure this out or find a proper wireless connection for my laptop to work. Until such time, you will all have to just take my word for it that I am in a much nicer place than you. :P ....

...Having fun, trying not to get sunburned while simultaneously trying to suntan (it`s a tightrope walk!), eating way to much bad food and enjoying it thoroughly. Will most likely come back with 5 lbs but...eh....ce sont les vacances, n`est-ce pas? Lots of lounging, relaxing, mid-day naps and frequent dips in the river when it gets unbearably hot, and a fridge full of beer, just to myself! (well, now that my uncle is no longer around to steal some....*grumble*...)

...I do miss you all...but not enough to come home. hehehe. Lots of love,

K

Gentlemen, start your...erm...gyroscopes...?

So, among my favorite topics of conversation (a small aside from the usual blatherings on monkeys, squirrels and the like) is Segways. (See October 20, 2006 blog entry for refresher)

It appears that the local police force will be trying out these suckers for the summer (on loan from a Segway distributor, apparently) to see how they aid in maintaining the peace and apprehending criminals during the Edmonton festival season.

While this may all seem fine and good in theory, in practice (as my favorite radio DJ, Garner Andrews correctly pointed out)....well...it may not be so fine and good.

Bike cops have been a regular sight on Whyte and other environs for over a decade now, though I must admit that their little shorty shorts and helmets still make me snicker whenever I see them. They don't command the respect of a constable on horseback (do we even have those here?) but they're great for pursuing vagrants through the idyllic river valley, I'm sure.

That said, bikes have many features that make them excellent police vehicles: speed, manoevreability, lightweight and easy to jump off of to apprehend a felon at a moment's notice. Segways, well....while they're speedy and manoevreable, and have come a long way since the prototype, aren't exactly lightning quick and sure as hell don't take kindly to being hefted about (if lifting them is even a possibility without serious back strain.) The battery-power, while eco-friendly, begs the question of whether you'll come across a cop puttering to a standstill in hot pursuit of a bandit or (laughably) smacking headfirst into the ground because their segway flops out on them and falls over (it's been known to happen.) They're not particularly adept at getting through crowds, I would imagine, seeing as how anyone in the crowd could easily tip you with a jovial shove from behind. And considering that they're planning on introducing the strange gizmos during the Capital Ex festivities, it'll be interesting to see how long it takes for a cop to be humiliated.

Not that being humiliated on a Segway is difficult. Just stepping onto the thing brings out images of super-nerddom or shitty European tourists (again, read old post), not to mention the guffaw-inducing pop-culture memories of one GOB Bluth (hehehe)...

Garner made a good point of how, exactly, a cop was to bring in an apprehended criminal on a Segway. Double up? Place 'em on the handlebars? I can just picture it now: trying to get a belligerent drunken redneck onto the wobble-sensitive Segway without having him topple the both of you over into the ring-toss tent. Beautiful!

Ahh, la. What's there to watch on TV when such entertainment potential will be gyrating down your very block, keeping the streets safe?

*grin*
K

B.U.L.L.S.H.*.T.

Seriously. I've had it. Guys=ridiculous children spewing lies. Not all, mind you. I am not quite ready to go around castrating losers. However, I am at the point now where, in the immortal words of Will Ferrell, "I feel like I'm taking crazy pills!"

I decided about 6 weeks ago that I was through with this whole 'net dating thing I'd been trying. I had a few good laughs, few good dates, mostly unimpressive/depressing shite that I decided I had to take a break from before I became a bitter little witch. Luckily for me, the last guy I dated from there was pretty good. Very nice, treated me well. Too good to be true, I though, and was very suspicious, something that made me feel guilty for doubting the genuineness of someone whose actions suggested that they were, indeed, sincere. Nope. No sincerety. It was too good to be true, and I feel stupid but, more importantly, angry that I gave someone every opportunity to be honest and it blew up in my face. I was forthright and understanding about his newfound "need for space" and gave it. I also got a big sob story about the reasoning behind it and how it was all a horrible thing for him to deal with, blah blah blah. Fine. OK. Then I find out it's all bull, call him on it (politely) asking why he felt lying was the way to go, since a) I'm not stupid and b) I don't like being condescended to. Didn't get an answer, of course, but was again not disappointed in someone's cowardice. Seriously. Does anyone have the balls anymore to just be honest? It's sad. The only thing I am never disappointed by is another's ability to disappoint. I'm not heartbroken or pining. I'm upset at being undermined and underestimated. I'm a nice person. A good person. Intelligent and funny and fun to be around. So really, just be straight up with me. And don't try to blame me. It's not my fault. You and I both know that. I know there are parts of me that are bitchy and stupid. So why can't others admit when they're assholes? You don't have to like it. But you should at least own up to it.

K

Opprobrious rot!

Came into work this morning and was rifling through the weekend's newspapers when a coworker pointed out an article I was sure to find inflammatory. Across three pages of the Globe and Mail was spread an article on yet another example of our modern-day quest for equality being subverted into a means of placating the lowest common denominator: the vilification and gradual extinction of vocabulary.

Grrrr....

According to the (apparently well-researched) article, our society has determined that a vocabulary made up of words greater than 3 syllables is a threat to our pan-cultural and globally-minded aspirations. Teachers are being told not to challenge children, lest they confuse them or (heaven forbid!) force them to use a dictionary to understand what is being taught to them. Pandering seems to be the modus operandi of our society, where the thought of language-barriers to non-english speakers is abhorrent and thus must be weakened and dumbed down to lessen the considerable strain that such a taxing exercise as learning a new language must place upon ESL students.

Which makes sense, of course. I mean, why set a high standard for yourself and others and have people rise to the occasion and in doing so gain a greater knowledge and understanding of English when we can underestimate people and dumb ourselves down to their level? Brilliant! In this way, we can make headway into eliminating higher brain-function altogether and revert to using a series of grunts and pointing to ensure that even the most neanderthalic among us is not left out.

No child left behind? Great. So let's keep everyone back in the dark ages because it would be dammaging for poor Johnny's self-esteem if he thought that anyone in his class could read better than he could.

Let's see, we've got spell-checkers and grammar checks on our computers, we don't need cursive writing because, of course, we'll ALWAYS have a laptop at the ready should we need to communicate, and, you know what? Fuck it. Let's rid ourselves of higher language altogether. I think a man clubbing me over the head with a large stick and dragging me back to his cave is just as effective a communications tool as asking me out on a date. In fact, it's better, because it's getting to the point and not dallying around, which would waste precious "doing" time with what would otherwise be pointless "saying" time.

According to this article, out of a possible working vocabulary of over 700,000 words (English has, by far, the greatest number and variety of words available of any language, which is what makes it such a utile language in teh first place) the average human being is in possession of between 30,000 and 60,000 words. And the greatest time to learn language (like all other forms of learning) is at a young age. So the modern TV-babysat child whose parents are focussed on ensuring that they can defuse a nuclear missile and prepare for advanced calculus by age 2 are not providing children with the linguistic tools necessary to convey the intellectually challenging ideas with which they can come up with.

The article offers counterpoints by linguists who, being pragmatic beasts (I was nearly one, remember, so I can see this side, too) figure that if it's a word too long to get the point across, then the purpose of language (communication) has been lost and therefore the use of big/complicated words is superfluous. Except, of course, for that naggling fact that larger words allow us to convey specific ideas that might otherwise take half a paragraph of carefully chosen "dummy words" to express. That and, well, the whole idea of a language's "usefulness" completely ignores the fact that language is an artform and tool for expressing the most complex of human thoughts, feats and emotions. For the same reason we don't still use wooden mallets and stone flints to build buildings, opting instead for mitre saws and cement mixers, so too should we not deprive ourselves of the all but the most basic tools of communication.

Ok. So I've rambled on enough about this, but for a final touch of "WTF"-ness, here is a perfect example of such linguistic laziness completely miring our culture:

Harry Potter, perhaps the most popular series of books since Jesus and the Gang got together, sold hundreds of millions of copies in North America alone. And while Canadian children, like their British counterparts, got to read the first book in the series, entitled "Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone", their neighbours to the south got to read "Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone." Now, I don't believe (as much as I would sometimes like to) that Canadian children are that much brighter than their American peers. They are, however, apparently more readily able to access a dictionary to find out the meaning of the word "philosopher", which apparently was too difficult for American children's sensitive craniums to grasp. Forget the facts that philosophy is an ancient and still very important field, or that a philosopher's stone is actually a mythological and historical THING (whereas a sorcerer's stone is sweet fuck-all) that has implications to the book itself.

You can see how this makes my brain ache and long for the times when we could sit around in togas, drinking at a symposium and plotting for the moment when we could replace dictators and tyrants with philosopher kings.

All right. I'm done. But I encourage you to read the article here:

Globe and Mail, June 16, 2007

...that is, of course, assuming that you people are still capable of reading.

K

Shitty-Ass Week.

This week was one of the worst in recent memory for me.

While the sun has begun to shine on this rainy city (good thing considering that I'm here for a good time, not a long time...hehe...ahhh, forget it!) and session is FINALLY over...I'm still reeling over the long, drawn-out misery that I've had since Sunday...

It's weird for me, because over the past few years I have come a long way in learning to just relax and not stress myself out the way I did back in University. Partly that was due to the sheer necessity of not wanting to burn a hole in my stomach lining, but partly being stressed is just...well...exhausting.

I've forgotten what it's like to live off of adrenaline and cortisone hormones 24-7 and have a permanent knot in my stomach. I even had my first panic attack in probably, oh, a good 5-7 years, something I haven't had regularly since I was in junior high school.

There is not one particular culprit I can point to, more of a series of ever greater back-breaking straws. I got hit with a massive flu, which may have subsided on its own after a few days had the stress of work and missing days at the office with papers piling on ad nauseum and personal issues not come into the mix.

Personal issues, well...let's not get into that. Let's just say I had found something particularly enjoyable that turned, well...not sour, more...complicated? Meh. I've obsessed/blamed myself/wracked my brain for a solution, but, alas, have realized (grudgingly) that it's a situation out of my control, and that I must be patient, sit, wait and hope for the best. Which, for me, is like telling a heroin addict to just sit tight and wait for the chills to pass....gah...

Not sleeping, coughing my lungs out and being cooped up at home for days on end in a sick daze didn't help matters. I've been moping to friends and finally broke down and had my mom make me dinner and watch a movie and cuddle on the couch on Wednesday, because if I had to go home and spend the night alone I knew I would sit and mull over the various ways in which I was stressed out. Made me feel better to go home, have a good meal. Something about the mom-factor that reassures you that everything'll be all right. Lame for a grown woman to admit to that, but nonetheless very true.

Went out drinking last night to celebrate the end of session and am making plans with the girls to get me away from my house for a few hours and cheer myself up. Thinking that I should go to the pool tomorrow morning and swim furiously until I nearly drown. The exercise and water will be calming.

I'm trying to be Zen about it. Things will work themselves out. What is meant to be will be, que cera, cera, all that shite. It takes an optimistic person to buy into that, though, so I'm struggling. But I want to believe, hells yes.

k

Online shopping will be the death of me (or, more specifically, my wallet)..

I know that the whole eBay, Amazon and whatnot has been a craze for some time now, though, until recently, I could never count myself among the millions spending their every last penny on useless bits of dried celebrity toast or some sort of used Japanese schoolgirl underpants, or something...

...not sure what it was. I tend to dip my toes in slowly when doing something online, so perhaps my lack of knowledge about most things online coupled with a complete lack of willpower kept me from allowing myself to explore the full potential of the internet's bounty....

...what really opened things up for me was travelling. When you're 1,000's of Kms away from your local branch and in need of booking planes, trains and hostels (you thought I was going to say "automobiles", weren't you? hehe....ahh, forget it....) you learn to put your faith in the encryptions of Air Canada and hope for the best (and also accept that your Visa limit is of such little value that it's not even worth stealing....) The surprising ease with which you can book ANYTHING led to me exploring my options further and further...

...though I haven't bought anything off of eBay, I've been slowly progressing through clothes, music and, my newest favorite: books online at Chapters.ca.

It began innocently enough with me coming to the determination that ordering Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows in advance and having it delivered to my door made more sense that waiting in line with fifth-graders overnight. While I was ordering, the sidebar on the webpage indicated that, for any order over $40, I would get free shipping....well, I thought, I could always use more books, couldn't I?.....

...when my first package arrived in the mail it was an awesome treat. Ripping open the carton for a package of nice, shiny, unperturbed pages just waiting for me to pore over them. So I ordered again. And again. Two weeks later, I am now the proud owner of 6 new books, for which I have no room on my bookshelves and even less room on my credit card, yet I cannot help loving the insatiable high of having nifty new bits of delightful reading material delivered to my very door. Buying books in your pjs? God! I'm in Heaven!

Just had to nerd out, peace.

K

OH MY GOD!!!!

so, every now and then I find out something or have an experience that reminds me of how very grown up my siblings and I have become. Such a moment just arrived for me in the form of an email from my brother (who's currently in Scotland with the missus) who just revealed to me, via said email, that he proposed to his girlfriend!

MY BROTHER'S GETTING MARRIED!!!!!!!

Holy shit. This is surreal. Especially considering I'm the older sibling. It seems all out of joint. But, then again, they've already got the car, the house and the dog...

...ran out of my office like a madwoman and hunted down my sister, who's doing summer work for us, and made her come back and read the email with me. We were so excited, jumping up and down like stupid little kids.

Then we called our mom to tell her...but, of course, she's known for the past freakin' 7 MONTHS and has just been waiting for it to happen....*grumble*....stupid secret-keeping parents!!!

anways, just had to share, because I'm so excited!!!!!

Lurve,

K

I really love your hairdo yeah, I'm glad you like mine too: see we're looking pretty cool, look at ya!

Went with Ms. Yolande to see the Dandy Warhols at the EEC last night. Damn, was that a rad show!

Though I remember enjoying songs like, "Not if you were the last Junkie on Earth" from the late 90s, it wasn't until 2002 that I really picked up on them with the release of the crazy-catchey "Bohemian Like You." (If you don't recognize the song, it's that insanely easy to get stuck in your head one from car commercials. Trust me, You've heard it.)

I went a little crazy on the Dandys in 2003-4 when "Welcome to the Monkey House" came out and then from there leapfrogged into my love for the Brian Jonestown Massacre from the documentary "Dig!" when it came out in '04.

They have quickly moved up my list of favorite bands of all-time. Not most favorite, granted, that spot will always be reserved for a little band called Radiohead, but DAMN, are their songs catchy!

The concert was fantastic. They didn't bullshit around with the crowd but pretty much stuck to playing great songs, which I appreciate, because that's what people are there for: the music. They played a nearly 2-hour set and by about midway stopped with a set list and started taking requests shouted out from the audience. Of course the bigger songs were played, and a few surprises were, too. Sadly, one of my favorites, "Get Off", wasn't played, but by the end of the evening Courtney (lead singer)'s voice was so raw he could barely speak.

The final cap that made this concert exceptional, however, was their refusal to do an encore. They played their asses off and the last song Courtney screamed his lungs out, then they left the stage, the keyboardist thanked us and sang us a quick solo, then it was over. Boom. Done. I thought it was refreshing, seeing as how this was the first concert I've EVER been to without an encore. And why not? Encores should be special, and in this day and age, they're built into the show, so that you KNOW it's coming, as the #1 radio hit has yet to be played...hmm, I wonder if they'll perform it during the encore? Pfft. Besides, I think it leads many bands to make their performances choreographed and half-assed, because they'll just wait for some screaming and adoration from the crowd before playing a song you damned well KNEW was coming. Pandering. And kind of lame. This concert? Far from it.

Fantastic.
K

Can you say, "road trip"!?!

THIS was on the front page of the Edmonton Journal this morning. Sad, frightening, yet deliciously bad. I believe a visit sometime this summer is in order. We could even go to Drumheller afterwards and laugh at all the "fake" dinosaurs. Woot!

Happy Birthday to me, happy birthday to me...

25-to-K

Directions to Cabin for Weekend Debauchery!

Directions
Map 1
Map 2

Monday Made Worse (...then slightly better)

You know what sucks even worse than coming in to work on a Monday morning while the beautiful sun shines and blue skies mock you out your window? Doing it a day early.

Yes, I came in to work on a Sunday afternoon. And Mother's Day, no less. *sigh* Sadly, I just had too much that needed to be done. Not that it really got finished. Amazingly, 4 hours of working on data entry and filing only got me the data entry done and even then, I've still got about 50 letters to enter. Gah. And of course, when you walk into the building and sit down at your computer, there are 60 emails waiting in your inbox, shiny and new, just begging to be answered in due course. Blargh.

Suckitude.

****

Now, on to a more positive note (and speaking of suckitude, though, of course, a rather "different" kind of suckitude....) I thought I'd share something that brightened my day and nearly made me spit coffee on my computer screen:

Kleaning the Kitty

Seriously...my cat would have clawed my face off had I ever tried this. I don't think I would even had made it within 5 feet of him.

Happy Monday,

K

My Ray of Sunshine on a Rainy Day...

Woke up this morning to no sun shining through my window and a dark, dreary-looking sky above. Recognizing that this was not conducive to making me want to wake up and go to work, I decided to treat myself to a coffee and scone from the corner bakery before work.

I showed up, got my latte and oven-hot scone (dee-licious!) and paid with my debit. Unfortunately, debit machine wouldn't work. Tried again. No dice. Line up was growing and I heard rumblings behind me as work-bound commuters impatiently groaned that they, too, were paying with debit. I gave the girl my business card (I have so few opportunities to use them, but this was as good as any) and promised to return and pay in the evening, when a lady a few people behind me jumped to the front and threw a $20 bill on the counter, saying, "It's Okay, I've got everyone's coffee." We all turned around puzzled at the idea of someone being this kind and generous before 8am and without their morning java. I tried to protest and the woman shrugged that she she had found the money in the IGA parking lot the previous day, and figured that making sure we were all caffeinated was as good a way to spend it as any.

So I got my breakfast paid for by a wonderful stranger. I wish I had stopped to get her name, or even thank her. But then she jumped on her white horse and rode away, so I couldn't.

...Ok, so I made up the horse part, but if this were the movies, it would SO be how the story ended. Also, she'd probably have gun holsters with really cool homemade pistols in them or something.

Hehe.

Javajavajavajavajava,

K

When the power of Awesome combines...

Surfing the net at work (what? Coffee break :oP)and came across this mashup of two sweetass movies (and two of my favorites): Anchorman, and the recent release 300. You gotta watch it and wet yourself. Or, you know, not wet yourself. Though I highly doubt that's possible, considering the power of hilarity and radness the link below bestows.

Anchorman, 300

hehee,

K

Oh what a glorious past 24 hours I've had...

Greetings, Friends!

Despite being sicky sick and feeling like crud, I have experienced some wonderful surprises and bore witness to some interesting and amusing things over the past day or so, just wanted to share, because I'm in such a happy mood right now :o)...

...the sun is shining. Isn't that grand? To celebrate I ate my lunch outside for the first time this year. Ahh. And of course, what better lunch than a hot dog from Fat Franks, which has now, joyfully, returned to the Legislature area. Seriously, I think I ate there half my summer. MSG? Bah. Humbug.
...sitting outside eating my delicious smokie, watched two squirrels chase each other around the park like idiots. High-larious. Also spent 10 minutes watching bunnies out the window with my coworker, as the Leg is home to many of the fluffy critters.
...This week is Administrative Assistant Appreciate Week (I think it used to be something to do with secretaries, but that's un-PC...) and though I'm "technically" only 1/2 admin, I was delighted to find my coworkers return from lunch this afternoon with a bouquet of glorious spring flowers. Including a gerbera, my favorite flower. It was rad.
...I bought my tickets to go see the Dandy Warhols in May, and found out this morning that the White Stripes are coming to town. Yah!
...lastly, but certainly not least, I saw a most fascinating young man on the bus last night on my way home from work. I had to do a double-take, because it was so uncanny. He was a tall thin punk kid, dressed all in black, who was a doppleganger for Alex in "A Clockwork Orange." I had to bite my lip to keep from grinning at this kid. His fashion was impeccable. He even had a black bowler on his head and I half expected him to lean across the bus and beat some old man while singing in the rain....ahhh....Ok. Most of you would probably find that weird, or perhaps a bit creepy. I found it totally awesome and smiled to myself on the way home how someone could so intricately mimic a costume...

Ok...that's all for me, I've got to go to work now, with a smile on.

woot,

K

Step One: Kick Zombie Ass. Step Two: Kick Small-Town Ass. Simmer. Stir. Serves one Awesome good time!

Just got back from watching "Hot Fuzz" with Nobis. It was a delightful treat. I know, I'm partial to British movies, particularly comedies, but these guys are so funny and the films are so well done, it's hard not to want to cry laughing.

Though it starts off slower than "Shaun of the Dead" it's still a riotous good time. They parody/pay hommage to the classic Cop Action Thriller perfectly. The last few scenes with car chases, gunfights and gore are more than worth the price of admission on their own. It's equal parts spaghetti western, redemption tale and testosterone-infused American machismo flick.

Awesome. Purely awesome. Please, go see it. You will not be disappointed. And if you are, you ought to check your pulse, because in all likelihood you are dead.

Cheers,

K

Please, somebody put me in quarantine!

I'm not sure if it's a sign of the apocalypse or merely a bad flu season, but the past 6 months or so have been absolutely horrific for mass illness in my circle of friends, family and (most notably) coworkers.

Not sure what it is about the office. Maybe it's the recycled air. Maybe it's the fact that we spread our germs all over phones and keyboards and reach our filthy hands into the same bowl of candies/nuts at the reception desk. Whatever it is, it's nasty. I feel like I should be wearing a level-5 Hazmat suit around, or, at the very least, some sort of SARS-shielding surgical mask.

The coworker who occupies the office next to me was away sick yesterday and has spent the majority of today sniffling/coughing/hacking/oozing black goo (okay, not the latter) and every time he does so I want to slam my door shut and wedge a towel under the crack. And I'm not a hypochondriac. But seriously, when 10 out of the 20 people in my office are sniffling or calling in sick over the past few days, I get anxious. While hunkering down at home under the bedsheets sounds like a great plan, the amount of work I will be missing is too daunting to entertain the idea.

Auugghhh.My tummy now hurts. F***. That's it, I'm disinfecting my desk.

Ebola-ically yours,

K

Grief in a 30-Second Soundbyte World

So by now, I'm sure everyone's heard about the horrific massacre that took place at Virginia Tech yesterday. It's blasted across all the newspaper headlines this morning and the news has been non-stop on cable TV and radio shows, the ticker feeding constant updates on the dead, wounded and shocked.

These sorts of occurences have always made me sick, but of late, not for the reasons that such an event might evoke.

Watching hourly updates on CTV NewsNet last night, as well as flipping across other Cable news networks, I couldn't help but notice a theme of seeking out instant-explanations and finding ways to compartmentalize this event and stick it in a box marked "understood". The impetus to "move on" from the event was more shocking than the event itself. Lloyd Robertson (who, I admit, is not my favorite newscaster) encapsulated this sentiment when he stated that (and I'm paraphrasing): "our sympathies go out to the families of those killed and hope that this issue can be resolved so that the healing process can begin."

Excuse me? The "healing process"?! Hours, not days, HOURS have passed since the occurence, the bodies are probably still warm, and we are to believe that now is the time to "get over it"?! Where is the grief? The disbelief? The anger? Are we skipping through those steps towards acceptance and "moving on" or is it some sort of macabre real-life Simpsons episode where we are expected to go through all the stages of grief within a matter of minutes, so we can move on.

I expressed my disgust to my brother as he sat on the couch next to me, and he turned to me and shrugged: "when you live in the world of the 30-second soundbyte, people don't have time to think about the repercussions or impact on society."

So we are not meant to digest this event, merely swallow it and move on? I guess for some that might work, but the grumbling indigestion I feel tells me that perhaps such awful events wouldn't be happening with such frightening regularity if we took the time to reflect upon what we do as a society that evokes such outcomes, rather than choke down some mind-opiate pepto-bismol crap to avoid ever asking ourselves the hard questions to which we may not like the answers.

K

My Vimy Connection

So, anyone from Canada who even took the merest glance at a TV or newspaper over Easter weekend knows that this weekend marked the 90th anniversary of the Battle of Vimy Ridge in France.

Vimy is one of the greatest war memorials in the world, and also happens to be the place where several Loyal Edmonton Regiment soldiers were discovered and repatriated during the ceremony.

My brother also happens to be a member of the Loyal Edmonton Regiment, and as such was chosen as one of the lucky few who had the honor of going to France (and possibly meeting the Queen!) to participate in the huge ceremonies and processions that happened all weekend.

CTV did a lot of coverage for this, and my bro's gf and I were watching on Friday when we spotted him in a video of the events. You gotta scan to about 1:45 into the clip, but there he is, at attention, as the camera pans the crowd. So proud of him :o)

OK. Just had to plug one of those who share my DNA. We're a rare breed, you know ;o)

Cheers,
K


CTV Vimy Video

Fuck Robots, Man has Created His Own Universe!

Wee Bang

I am very into quantum physics right now. Not sure why. I think mostly because I find it mind-bogglingly difficult to understand the specifics, but the implications are phenomenal to work your head around. It's like a spectrum of understanding in our minds: the further apart that science and philosophy get from one another, the closer they appear. That whole "being" issue and all.

Anyways...so I just found out that they created a mini Big Bang. Basically by doing it in reverse to get some hot quarks or something. Not sure what it means, but the concept is terrifying and awe-inspiring at once.

Whoa. It's like, the universe and stuff, maaaaan.

K

Harry Potter and the Torment of Anticipation

The new HP cover was released a few days ago. Whaddaya think? I like it, personally, though I can't help but want to tease out plot details based on the cover art.

Obviously, there's Harry, Hermione and Ron. There also seems to be some sort of treasure involved and a ring that seems to me at least to be sucking them into some sort of vortex. Horcrux? Strange portal in floo network? It reminds me of the dais behind which Sirius Black (he's still alive, dammit!!! I believe! I believe!) disappeared. It's all very mysterious and I am jittering in my chair awaiting July 21st....damnit! Not even April yet!

Awright well.... here's the photo, discuss.

K



ps- Also note the stag on the back cover....hmm? hmmm?

Proud Auntie

For those of you who have an abhorrence of small things or get nauseated at the sight of anything cute, please do not click on the following.

Yesterday I met my new niece, Jessa, and played doting auntie for the entire afternoon. She's so gorgeous! If you look closely, you'll notice how her mum's gussied her all in pink (most likely a reaction to having had 3 boys before, she's girling out!) and that in one of the photos she's swimming in a huge green tunic. That's the wee dress I knit for her. OOoohh.....

ok. I gotta stop now. I'm getting gushy and I believe my estrogen levels just skyrocketed.

Jessa and her cute new dress!
Jessa and Auntie K
Look how tiny!

a F.I.S.T. to the face...

So, on Saturday I decided to take Bettsy up on her offer of joining her and Jess for their semi-weekly step aerobics/FIST class. I had been making fun of Bettsy's whinging regarding how cramped she felt after her classes. I have, however, since eaten my words.

Ow.

It's been two days, and I am walking like a little old man who just made a mess in his pants. Not cool. I realize that F.I.S.T., rather than a snicker-worthy reminder of some sort of BDSM activity, in actuality stands for "F***, I'M SORE TODAY!" It's like tiny little elves have attached themselves to my calves and are stabbing my muscles with little pitchforks and twisting....aaaaaauuughhh.....

Uh oh...cramp....*wincing*

OK. I concede. *whimper*

K

Just because you know it's coming, doesn't mean it doesn't still suck...

Well, I had a feeling this was going to happen. Usually these sorts of things happen in clusters--just ask doctors in hospitals or nurses on ICU wings, they'll probably agree that people die in clusters.

Not that these people have to have any particular relation to you; they just seem to pass all together. Tuesday my coworker's grandmother died and she left yesterday for the funeral in Winnipeg. Yesterday a part-timer who worked on special projects at my office died under "suspicious circumstances." Creepy. So when my phone rang at 7 this morning, I had a feeling about what was on the other end. My mom likes to act as if she's calling to say hi, but she's never been particularly adept and concealing her feelings.

So, yeah. My grandmother died this morning.

We knew it was going to happen. She's been battling cancer for months and her alzheimer's was steadily worsening. In fact, she's lucky to have made it past Christmas. And, as unfortunate as the combination of stomach/lung cancers and dementia may seem, it was really a blessing, as she did not remember her pain for very long as her Alzheimer's grew worse. She got to stay home and died in her own bed, which is a privilege few get to have. That said, though, it still sucks.

I'm the person who takes care of others when something like this (crisis, death, emergency) happens, so I am not blubbery or in shock. I'm sitting at work, trying to keep busy and the most upset I get is when I think of my poor mum and how devastated she sounded on the phone.

It's wierd what you remember of a person when you are faced with the fact that you will never again see them in your lifetime. My grandma was the stereotype of the great granny: baking pies, making delicious stews, and always ready to cuddle, with an ample bosom and enough soft flesh to nuzzle into as a kid and make all the scraped knees and hurt feelings go away.

The thing I remember most is her smell. She wore a flowery perfume, but unlike most flowery perfumes, it never made me want to gag. It was one of the sweetest smells and I always loved when she came to visit because our house would smell like my grandma's perfume. Smell is supposedly the most memory-linked sense, and I believe it. Just the thought of that scent calms me and reminds me of my childhood summers in Quebec.

I find it rather funny (not haha, more hmmm) that this has happened to close to the big dinner I have planned for Steph's 25th birthday. Because even 5 1/2 years later, I can still remember the minutiae that made up the person I loved. For Steph it was how she reacted when I would make her laugh. The grin, then the laugh, then the face turning red and the choked look when she was laughing so hard she could barely breathe, so all that came out was an hysterical hissing noise that just made her laugh all the more.

I recently finished a great book by Kevin Brockmeyer called "The Brief History of the Dead" wherein he uses aspects of African mythology to create an "in-between" land betwixt the living and the dead where the "living-dead" reside. It is much like our world and it is where people go who still exist as memories in the people still alive on Earth. So, in a way, they are still alive.

I like that. Though I am not a religious person and don't have any particular afiliation with the idea of Heaven/Hell/Purgatory/Reincarnation/etc. I think that this is an idea i could get behind. Not limbo, just...thoughts.

Well, I'd better go finish my work before heading home. My boss is going to drive me back to my mum's today. Sweet, no?

Take care,

K

Haiku Plea: Give me Back my Sunshine!

Dear Sun, please return;
My window scene's so dreary.
Miss you, come back soon.

Love,

K

Hey, I'm in the dictionary!

ses·qui·pe·da·li·an /ˌsɛskwɪpɪˈdeɪliən, -ˈdeɪlyən/

adjective Also, ses·quip·e·dal /sɛsˈkwɪpɪdl/

1. given to using long words.
2. (of a word) containing many syllables.

–noun
3. a sesquipedalian word.


[Origin: 1605–15; Latin: sésquipedālis measuring a foot and a half (see sesqui-, pedal) + -an]

How about that? 'Tis a proud moment for me. I never thought there was such a word, but, apparently, there is. And I love it. Such a meaty term, really gives your mouth something to chew on. Which, I suppose, is fitting, given its meaning, no? I will be writing in to dictionary.com to complain about why my profile is not up there next to this. Oh, so delightful. Such a better phrase than "pretensious-wordy-hoity-toity-know-it-all-who-can't-find-anything-better-to-do-with-an-english-degree", you know? It is my new word of the week. I will hug it and stroke it and call it George.

(*snicker*)

MzFitz

MzFitz's 5 Words that Rock:

1)Squeegee
2)Superfluous
3)Sesquipedalism
4)Inflammable
5)Embroglio

Slainte!

Happy St. Paddy's day!

To put you in the mood for some green beer and shenanigans, here are some photos from Baile Atha Cliath (Dublin) and the Hill of Tara in Eire, from 2005. The dude holding the shamrock is St. Padraig himself. It's said that he came to that hill and blessed the island or rid snakes or some such stuff. He's a saint. Just do what he says! *intense look in eye*

hehe.

See you tomorrow,

Ceallach

Tomorrow comes today

Caesar: Who is it in the press that calls on me? I hear a tongue, shriller than all the music cry 'Caesar.' Speak: Caesar is turn'd to hear.

Soothsayer: Beware the Ides of March.

Caesar: What man is that?

Brutus: A soothsayer bids you beware the ides of March.

Caesar: Set him before me; let me see his face.

Cassius: Fellow, come from the throng; look upon Caesar.

Caesar: What sayst thou to me now? Speak once again.

Soothsayer: Beware the ides of March.

Caesar: He is a dreamer; let us leave him: pass.


"Julius Caesar" Act I Scene 5

****

Just thought I'd give y'all a heads up for tomorrow. Moral of the story: if someone is looking out for you, maybe they have a point in what they're saying, even if you dont' wan to hear it. Oh yes, and look out for backstabbers. That is all.

oooooh!

K

"We will have to determine the aquatic nature of the stream"

This is a direct quotation from the Minister of the Environment in response to a question by one of my MLAs. Just thought it was an excellent example of "poli-speak". What, exactly, is the "aquatic nature" of a stream?

Isn't a stream, in essence, aquatic in nature?

What. The. F***. Seriously. These guys must be listening to themselves speak sometimes, right? They can't honestly think that such phrases are meaningful or, even, coherent.

Making fun of them is one of the ways I deal with the stress of being back in Session again. Today I've been super-stressed (work and personal issues coming to the forefront to create some swirling mass of un-awesome) and have been constantly squeezing a little stress ball my boss lent me. Thank god I don't smoke, or I'd be downstairs chuggin' my lungs out right now. Just...4 1/2 more months...just 4 1/2 more months.....


****

On to more pleasant posts!

Item the first: March 17th---> St. Paddy's Day

Not sure what's up for this. But, c'mon, I'm Irish....there WILL be beer of some sort involved. And drunken Kelly. And we all know what that means. (Shut up. That was a rhetorical statement, jerks! hehehe....)

Item the second: March 24th---> Steph Power's 25th Birthday Party

So, I came up with this great idea about a year ago to celebrate our dear friend's memory by hosting a huge festivity in honour of her 25th birthday. Friends, family, classmates, etc. However, things got off to a slow start and Steph's parents did not respond to my calls as I had hoped, so that idea got flushed pretty quickly.

However, Lindsay and I have still decided to do something, though a bit more low-key, for that Saturday. I'm thinking I'll book a restaurant (probably Greek...Steph liked Greek food...well, that or I could book us at some sort of Salty-foods restaurant, but I'm not so sure they have those ;o)for the evening and then we could just chill out. If anyone would like to bring pictures or anything, that'd be great. I figure we can reminisce, share stories, laugh and (it's ok if you do) cry and all that good jazz.

I will send out an email when I have solidified the plans.

Lurve,

The Ever-So-Cool-Under-Pressure (ha!)

K

ps - Yellow clothing or accessories for the dinner are mandatory. If you don't own anything yellow, consider getting a daffodil or rose or something pretty and bright. :o) Also, as a special Birthday gift, I thought we could put some money towards THIS

Awww, you GUYS!

*sniffle*

Sorry. Just getting a bit choked up here. I wrote that previous entry just trying to be honest and open about how much I appreciate everything that has happened to me in the past year. And your responses were just a little overwhelming. I am so grateful for your support and love.

I knew I had great friends, but to be reminded of it over the course of a few days still gets me every time.

Yes, I'm a sucker. But I don't care.

K

Moving Forward and Looking Back...

This week marked the anniversary of two major changes in my life: "The Big Breakup" and "Getting a REAL Job".

I look at how the time has quickly passed and realize how much I have grown and changed over the past year (mostly, I hope, for the better ;o)

As pained and insecure as I felt at that time, someone in the dredges of some sort of "beginning of life" existential crisis, caught up in the midst of having my heart broken and my skills and education put to the test in the real world...I have survived and become a much better, saner and (this one I'm positive about) happier person for it.

Two years ago I embarked on my solo Europe trip and spent 6 months finding out who I was (literally, sometimes) from the bottom up, then returned to Edmonton, where I moved back with my family, drifted from temp job to temp job and spent the better part of my time wondering what the fuck happened to me that I became some servile, desperate leech trying to suck dry the last vestigial drops of blood from a stony partner.

(yes, I wallowed a bit. Does it show? hehe)

I also started at a job that wasn't my first choice, but I was knee deep in debt and the thought of a steady paycheque and the opportunity to actually particpate in the workforce was too much to pass up. The first few weeks were a mess that I don't really remember. New situation, new people, new...career, of sorts.

I was a lost soul. I'd look around my room and, quite literally, wonder who the person was that read all the books I once enjoyed, scrawled the notes about my dreams and aspirations and did creative things that inspired me.

I thank all of you who were friends with me at the time (well..you're still friends now) because I honestly think I would have pushed myself out of a moving vehicle had I been stuck listening to my whining drivel daily for weeks on end.

I don't know how or when, but the cloud lifted and suddenly being myself wasn't so difficult anymore. I had found that person I thought I'd lost somewhere, but who had ended up only misplaced and in disuse.

The past year, for all its pain, has been a spectacular one. I have had more ups than downs, despite some very serious family and personal issues. I found my purpose again and that was such a great feeling.

Since last March I have worked steadily at a job that, within 6 months, had created a new position for me and given me a raise to utilize my writing skills, for which I am grateful. Since last March I have rediscovered friends (particularly male ones that somehow fell to the wayside when I got caught up in a relationship) who helped me have fun again: parties, trips and just plain old comeraderie.

I made friends at work with whom i could go out drinking and talk to. Concerts, discovering yoga, volunteering with SONiC, a trip to Europe, new people, flings with hot forgettable boys, fun, rediscovering my art, rediscovering laughter and, most satisfyingly, finding a wonderful place to call my own, where I could swathe the walls in my own personality and reflect back onto myself the person I had begun to worry was a mere memory.

I know this all sounds particularly cheesy and introspective and for that I apologize. But In the past year I learned not only how to be myself again, but how to WANT to be that person again. Because, well...I like me. And I would never want to go back in time and tell that feisty, eager, precocious little girl that, sorry, kid, you turned out a soulless drone. Because, seriously, had I not made the two big changes (and they were, have no doubt, self-made changes) I shudder to think who I would be. Probably no one. Defining myself in terms of an unwillingness to let go of the a memory of someone who, in retrospect, was never really who I thought they were in the first place. A person who thought so little of me as a fellow human being that they couldn't even be bothered to tell me to fuck off and leave them alone.

In the end, I did it myself and I am so happy to be here, with debts being repaid, a cozy place to call my own, lovely friends and a great family that I appreciate all the more for not seeing them day in and day out. Memories of beer and pretzels in Munich, camping trips where I just sat around and laughed with friends, dancing again, being creative again. Wanting, most importantly, to be a writer again. To want to go back to school and become the person who makes a difference that I had always told myself I must be.

Hmm.

365 days isn't that many. But to me, it was just enough.

Thanks for reading. And, if you didn't, thanks for visiting my page anyways and giving this long-winded snooze-fest a pass. I still love you. Take care of yourselves.

Love,

K




PS- two important weekends coming up. Will post details on Paddy's Day and Steph's 25th Birthday Dinner soon!

You're a winner....AND a loser

Sorry I have not posted in the past few weeks. I'd plead off as being too busy but it was more sheer laziness than anything else. Interesting things did occur, travel to lovely Edson, Alberta, drinking, taking in plays, going to the zoo to taunt, erm, learn about monkeys and view the wee bebe monkey (about the size o' your thumb, awesome!)...yep, it's been a full 2 weeks

on the bad side, i found out that not only are we going back for Session on Wednesday, but that, due to the new "open and accountable" blah blah blah from the government, MLAs are going to potentially sit for 75 rather than 50 days. Which means that this Spring could go into June or even *gulp* July. Do you know how much I want to be running shit around at the Legislature when it's 30 degrees out? yeah, zero, that's how much.

anyways, nothing else to report. Just thought I'd share the latest Darwin Awards winner for 2007 because, well...I enjoy taking pleasure in others' pain, that's why. Or, you know...I just need to learn you guys a lesson or something. Besides...it's a good way to segue from my zoo spiel....so, w/o further ADO...

Overzealous zookeeper Friedrich Riesfeldt (Paderborn, Germany) fed his constipated elephant Stefan 22 doses of animal laxative and more than a bushel of berries, figs and prunes before the plugged-up pachyderm finally let it fly, and suffocated the keeper under 200 pounds of poop! Investigators say ill-fated Friedrich, 46, was attempting to give the ailing elephant an olive oil enema when the relieved beast unloaded on him. "The sheer force of the elephant's unexpected defecation knocked Mr. Riesfeldt to the ground, where he struck his head on a rock and lay unconscious as the elephant continued to evacuate his bowels on top of him" said flabbergasted Paderborn police detective Erik Dern. With no one there to help him, he lay under all that dung for at least an hour before a watchman came along, and during that time he suffocated. It seems to be just one of those freak accidents that proves that "S**T happens!"

Congratulations, Friedrich, and I hope they have hot showers in Heaven...phew.

k

Happy Valentine's Day!

Ok. I have to go on a little rant here. But if you'll bear with me, I believe you'll find some enlightenment, or, at the very least, a little perspective.

See...I am a very cynical person. As such, I am usually the one to look on the negative side of things first. However, over the past while ( I can't say whether it's been several months or several years) I have noticed myself gradually growing tired of cynicism. Not that I don't get down about things or depressed. Just that, well...being bitchy about things for the sake of being down I am finding more and more annoying than hilarious.

And so we come to Valentine's Day.

Hating on Valentine's Day, I'm sure, has been around as long as the holiday itself. The sentiment's grown in popularity over the last few years as a way to prove your anti-establishment, damn-the-man kind of post-Hallmark social paradigm. Wow. How very 21st century of you. Love Stinks. Original.

Now, I don't buy into that crass commercialism either. Chocolates and flowers and floppy stuffed bunnies aren't really particularly gratifying. And yes, a day reminding you of your singleton status can be damaging to your self-esteem. However, if that's all you get out of this day, I think you're missing the bigger picture.

My own realization of this fact came last Friday, when one of my coworkers "dared" to bring pink cupcakes and heart-shaped sugar cookies for snacks. Immediately, my coworkers (who, I allow, are usually cynical, brought about most likely by being in politics) began rolling their eyes and sneering their mouths in disdain for the upcoming holiday. This behaviour continued on Monday and only grew on Tuesday.

I could have let this behaviour go, but I decided to call them on it. In the middle of our morning meeting, I asked everyone why they had to get so down on love. I called them no-fun-niks and they had a good chuckle...but there was an underlying truth to what I was trying to tell them.

Why have we lost the love? Do we really think it's healthier and more beneficial to ourselves to make a day celebrating the greatest of human emotions the butt of jokes? Because I don't.

So f***ing what if you don't have a romantic interest? So what if you're single and alone? Using those excuses to shit all over V-Day is such a narrow-minded view of what love is. Love is friendship. Love is your family and your drooly pet dog. Love is being decent and considerate to a total stranger out of some greater "love" for humanity. Love, if you're into that sort of thing, can even be about God (though I don't personally abide by that last one.)

With all these different variations and opportunities for love, you would think we would use this day as a time to step back from our self-involved little worlds for 5 damned minutes and reflect on the love we get and the love we give to others. I guarantee you that there are very few people out there who are truly without love. And even then, there is always opportunity to give or get it. This isn't wishful thinking. This is fact. We are just too caught up in ourselves to acknowledge it. Well. Take the time to do that now. Think of your dumbass cat and that cute little way he has of snuggling in a ball on your lap and purring while you watch TV. Gives you the warm fuzzies, don't it?

My point was proven exactly this morning when I stepped onto the bus (having waiting in the -35C, wind-gusting cold for 15 minutes for it to arrive, my face half-frozen) and glanced up at the bus driver. He greeting me with a large smile and with two large light-up hearts on a headband around his head. He grabbed a pair of heart-shaped goofy glasses and put them on for everyone on the bus to see, and let out a boisterous laugh. When we got off the bus downtown, he turned on the microphone next to his seat and wished us a great Valentine's day. I hopped off the bus with a big grin and a lighter step.

Hmm. How about that?

Love,

K

Friday Giggles

I thought I would share some of the things that made me laugh and helped me get through the week.

Last night I saw the 2006 World's Hottest Commercials at the Garneau with the Peds. Here are some of my favorites:

Smooth E Baby Face Foam: Love Story

Olympus Distorted Dogs

Sci-Fi Channel Bionic Dog Suit

Enjoy,

K

Oh, yes, and just because I think it's adorable, here's a great picture I found online the other day. I love the eyes. They're so pleased with themselves.

My New Baby!

So:

The government decided to let my department in on this nifty "Learning and Wellness" Fund wherein the government will reimburse you up to $500/year on money you spend for gym memberships, courses, computer equipment, etc. This is to encourage you to "better" yourself. There are certain criteria, but mostly, it's free money!

Our benefit kicked in as of January 1st, but our fiscal year-end is in March. Which means, that between now and April, I have $1,000 of your hard-spent tax dollars (suckas!) to put towards my betterment.

I was torn between gym memberships, University courses, etc., but I figured whatever I spent it on, with the money I saved I could just spend my own cash on whatever the fund wouldn't pay for.

So last night, I bought a laptop. Not just any ol' laptop, though. The cutest, most user-friendly damned thing out there.

Voila. Mon bebe. J'adore!

*kissing little apple logo on laptop*

ahhhh.....

K

Stupid laws of physics...*grumble*

(or: "How I spent my Wednesday Night.")

Gather round, kiddies. It's time for one of Auntie K's patented, 100% organic, family-friendly funny stories guaranteed to make you scratch your head and laugh at me.

So...

Ever since I moved into my apartment, I've had issues with my Kitchen Sink. Not so much that I come home every night and the dishes have yet to do themselves (maybe tonight...?) but moreso that the hot water faucet is a piece o' shite. For the past six months, every time I (or my upstairs neighbour, for that matter) turned on our faucet, the pipes would make horrible screeching death sounds, like the pipes were protesting against the scalding they received. Stupid pipes.

My landlord supposedly fixed this problem when we all went without water for a day back in October. Fixed that, right? well....not quite.

See, the other issue with the hot water tap was that the knob tended to need a lot of coaxing to actually get water to come out of it. Scotty P., lovely "helpful" man he is, tried to fix it for me one day, and ended up making it worse. (still love ya, boy, you tried your best!) It has gradually gotten to the point where it now takes two full revolutions of the faucet before water begins to spout from the tap.

Then, about a week ago, the tap stopped working altogether. And no matter how tightly I would twist it, it would drip loud, plopping drips into the kitchen sink. Finally having enough, I tried turning off the valve under the sink. It wouldn't budge. So I got out my trusty toolkit, got my wrench and started pulling with all my might. Finally got it closed....but the water was still coming out. After throwing the wrench at the tap, I pouted for a few minutes, then decided to ignore the problem and sit on my couch to watch TV.

The *drip, drip, drip....PLOP!* did not help matters. I turned up the volume and called my landlord (who doesn't make housecalls after 8pm, figures.) and finally wrapped a towel around the damn thing to at least try to muffle the sounds of dripping.

That way, or so I thought, I could at least get through the night without wanting to gnaw my own face off.

I slept pretty well, all things considered....until about 3 am, when I shifted over to the left side of the bed and the whole side crashed to the floor, jolting me awake.

See, I've got one of those IKEA frames that take the slats, but since I have a boxspring, I figured I didn't need the slats. However, the boxspring having round corners and the bed frame having square ones, if it's not perfectly balanced on the corners...the boxspring will sink into one of the corners. Apparently, last night I was tossing a lot, because the second I flipped to the left, BANG!

I got up and said to myself that there was NO WAY I was fixing my bed at 3am, and huffed off to sleep on the couch.

The I realized that I can't sleep on my couch when there's a comfy bedroom, so I ended up moving a big honkin' mattress and boxspring around, hopefully disturbing my neighbours in the process (loud bastards.)

finally, I lay gingerly atop my bed, and tried to rest, while thinking the lightest, least restless thoughts possible.

And it worked....until 6am, when the bed sunk again.

Stupid bed. Stupid faucet.

K

ha! Take that, Aries!

According to the following webpage, statisticians have discovered a very strong link between a person's zodiac sign and their skills as a driver.

The worst offenders are Librans (ahh! Scary Lexi!), Aquariuses (....wracking brain for friend who is an aquarius) and Aries (dad. yes. he is a bit of a "selfish driver" I'd say)

The best drivers are Leos....aaaand GEMINIs! woot!

Now All I need is a vehicle and I'm a much lesser risk than nearly all you other accident-prone schlubs out there. Buhuhuwahahahaha!

Cheers,

K, the feisty (but cautious) Gemini

Zodiac Signs and Car Accidents

No. F***ing. Way.

Hawkeye, the Scuba-Kitty

Sorry, just had to share. You must see to believe.

K

The Miracle of Life: Instant Delivery Now Available!

Well, happy news, fellow readers! (yes, both of you!)

My stepsister's having her fourth child ( I know!) and my first niece to be born into the family today, at 12:30pm.

It's a scheduled C-section that's come early, as the baby is due in February but is being bumped up due to complications. My SS has been in the hospital for over 10 weeks now (and going a bit stir-crazy, I imagine), where--I found out this morning--she's been given steroids and medications like crazy to make the baby grow faster. Wow, what an age we live in.

Now, not only can we make babies in tubes or make them live after only 4 months in the womb, but apparently we can speed up their maturation so they're not all "preemie-like" upon birth. Whoa. She may still need incubation, but otherwise, we have our fingers crossed that she'll be healthy and well this afternoon.

I guess the part that wierds me out is how scheduled this is. Kinda takes the mystery of life out of it. It's like waiting for a train or something. Clockwork. It's like a birthday appointment. My family is at the hospital as I sit and type this, waiting around for her arrival. It's just....wierd. It's like insta-baby. Poof!

"Here ya go, 12:30 on the dot! We pride ourselves on our punctuality! Never late or your hospital fees free! (Ok, so it's free anyway, but besides that....)"

Anyways, so here's to me being a new auntie in T-minus 2 Hours and 18 Minutes. Can't wait to meet you, Jessa Clara.

Cheers,

K

Well...that was underwhelming...

One flavour that seems to linger in my mouth is the bitter taste of disappointment. And I hate to say it, but the whole "storm of the century" that was supposed to hit yet has left me just a wee mite unimpressed.

Apparently, 1/2 the snowfall of our last storm of the year (in November) and a drop in temperatures = abominable snowmen wreaking havok over the town. Pffft. What a crock.

Stupid blizzard bullsh*t. I was really looking forward to a city rendered unrecognizeable by the snow. Maybe even a day off work from the fact that all the doors were covered in snowhills. Ski bandits making off with people's purses before sliding off to their ice-castle lairs. You know, the usual snowstorm stuff.

*sigh*

K

White-Out

So, the blizzard has hit. Rumours of one of the biggest storms to hit Edmonton in, oh, 20-odd years started earlier on this week. I for one didn't really believe the hype, as even yesterday it was fairly warm and not terribly snowy.

Then I woke up this morning.

Damn, how things can change in a matter of hours! Looking out of my window at work (nearly 9am now) I can barely see the trees 30 feet away from my building. This is exciting! I love blizzards, especially when I can watch them from the snuggly warmth indoors and sip cocoa while scoffing at mother nature. Ha Ha! Ha Ha Ha!

(I'm totally getting smited for that one, let me tell you. I envision my pipes freezing and bursting in my apartment, sigh. Oh well. It was worth the laughter!)

I hope everyone in the city takes it easy over the next few days. Please be super careful on the roads. I heard that most drivers can't see the tail lights of the person in front of them. That's bad. I recommend strapping your dog to a GT Snowracer and mushing him to work for the rest of the week. Ok, maybe your cat, too. After all, you probably haven't lost all that weight from Christmas, and you don't want to tire the poor pup out.

Ok, I have to go to work now. Take care, dress warm, and enjoy the lovely picture of Bonhomme I found online. He looks so damn happy to be out in the snow, doesn't he? Awww....sweet bonhomme. I'll have visions of syrup on snow for the next week now. hehe.

Cheers,

K

Wobblology

Yes, actual braniac scientists received grant money to figure out a mathematical equation for how to balance a wobbly table. Apparently, as long as the surface the table rests on is relatively flat and none of the table legs are significantly shorter than the rest, any table can be de-wobbled without so much as a measely coaster.

Whoa. You hear that? It's millions of minds being blown simultaneously. Or, wait, maybe that's just a giant gasp escaping from people who can't believe somebody actually figured this out. Phew, glad that's over with! Now we can get back to curing AIDS and fixing that wee ozone problem.

Sheesh.

K

ps- Happy new year! I hope you all had a fabulous time!

Wobblology