Friday, March 14, 2008

me and the dog




I am not dog savvy. I've been around a few, but I've only ever been in charge of one once and only for a few hours. It went well (both the dog and myself made it out alive) but it did nothing to bolster my confidence.

Now I'm in charge of him for a few hours and I gotta tell ya, I feel stupid. Basically the only thing I have down is administering treats. And cringing and pleading for the whining to stop. I'm pretty good at that because there's a whole hell of a lot of whining going on. Although I can't say as I blame him when his person went and left him with such a dog-stupid person.

My hope is that I don't have to take him outside because I'm truly afraid I'm gonna lose him in a snowbank. Seriously, he's smaller than my cat and his legs are so small they're practically nonexistent. It could totally happen.

Wish us luck.

Wednesday, March 12, 2008

But you don't really care for music, do you?

Leonard Cohen is coming to town.

He'll be playing at the Sony Centre for the Performing Arts on June 6th and 7th. Showtime is 8:00 PM, both nights. Tickets start at $75 (plus fees and such, of course) and go right on up to $250.

I am desperate to attend and would like to know if anyone wants to go with.

Naturally I will be buying a $75 ticket. I feel I should be going for a better seat but I'll be travelling this summer and it would just be too much stress on my wallet to get the fancypants seats.

Tickets go on sale Saturday, March 15th at 11:00 AM.

I've passed up way too many opportunities to see him live, so this time I'm in it for real.

Wanna go with me?

Thursday, February 21, 2008

post not really deserving of a title - does anything I post deserve a title? most likely not...

If you poked me:


I would ooze oatmeal.



Forced to listen to:


Jill Scott.




And The Kings of Leon. I only have my MP3 player with me for music and I really could have done a better job of loading it properly before I left. I have learned a lesson here.



Shortly heading to:


Pearson International.



Just made my last trip to:


EFAD. I will miss the cheap craft supplies, I will not miss the heavy aroma of moth balls that hits you as soon as you open the front door and lingers at the back of your throat while you shop.

I'm getting excited about:


Touching the Beast. Not so much looking forward to the snot and litter box but those are relatively minor inconveniences.

Monday, February 04, 2008

what it's like, as of late

Rubbing myself up against:



My new luggage.




Listening to:



Björk.




Shocked by:



The price of groceries in Atlantic Canada. Seriously, to say I'm gobsmacked would not be an overstatement.




Watching:


Flight of the Conchords Season One - for the second time. When something's that good, it's always good.




Thirstin' to see:



Mr Mew. I even miss the snot. I wish he fit in my purse. Also missing Mr L, public transit that isn't sketchy as fuck, the Twits (can't believe I'd ever say that) and the soothing sounds of SOCOM.




Spraying:



Paint. And lots of it.




Eating:



Organic baby spinach. And lots of it.

Saturday, December 29, 2007

Holidays and fightcakes...

My Christmas was incredible, thanks for asking. And yours? Do tell!

I was spoiled in ways I wasn't expecting and I got to really connect with some people I've only ever really known in passing. It was perfectly lovely.

Abrupt change of topic starts NOW:

Tonight is fight night and I made some fightcakes. See?



Like my ghetto icing technique? Anyway, the UFC action is being recorded as I type (only animals watch live TV these days) but I need to grab another drink before I settle my ass back down. There is vodka flowing tonight and I need to direct some of it into my mouth. I won't get drunk, I assure you but I am craving a vodka and soda something bad. Excuse me while I take care of that...

Wednesday, December 05, 2007

another reason

From WIRED: Not to do that nutty Facebook thing.

Tuesday, December 04, 2007

if you can believe it...

Would you believe me if I told you that there was ANOTHER BAT flying around the apartment tonight?

Well you should, because there was.

BAT vs humans redux.

What exactly are the fucking odds of having a BAT in your apartment, let alone TWO BATS in your apartment in as many days?

I was here all day creeping around and generally being a fraidy cat because I was so incredibly terrified of the even the possibility that I'd happen upon another BAT. All day I was telling myself, "I shouldn't be so fucking scared and stupid, the BAT is gone."

Yeah, the BAT from YESTERDAY was gone, but that didn't mean there wasn't another BAT to take its place.

Mr L got home from work tonight tired and sick of the human race. And as it turns out, sick of the BAT species as well.

He approached the closed door of the bedroom with his shirt and tie in hand and when he opened the door he freaked the hell out.

At first I was all, "FUCK YOU, it's not FUNNY, there isn't any BAT." And then he continued to yell and freak out and I was still, "DUDE, fuck OFF, not funny to make fun of me."

He had to yell and freak out a bit more before I believed that there was indeed another BAT in the belfry.

Mr L saw the BAT flying around and then landing on a box in the open closet. He then closed the bedroom door and we went into action.

He donned rubber gloves, skiing gloves, a baseball cap and his camping jacket (just in case the BAT tried to touch him) with no small amount of fanfare and throwing things around.

Then, as protected as he could possibly be from the beast when pest control is not his chosen profession, he went back into the bedroom.

And the BAT was gone. Not to be found. The BAT was not in any way visible to the naked eye.

So I scooped up the cat and litter box and tossed both of them in the bathroom while I started to freak out myself.

I paced and considered bolting from the apartment while Mr L went about his BAT business but in the end I stayed. Although I must confess that when moving from one spot to another I did crouch as though I were dragging myself through a trench with enemy fire raining over me.

Two hours later, Mr L found the BAT. It was, of course, in the very last place there was to look - the back corner of the closet.

To find it he had to look under every piece of furniture, shake out every article of clothing, move furniture and boxes into the living room...it was an utter pain in the ass and not really a good way for him to end his day.

After he found it, Mr L asked me several times if I would like to see it. After shuddering and almost peeing my pants I declined the offer. And so, after close inspection by Mr L (who commented on the BAT'S sharp teeth - the FUCK? who would want to see THAT?) the BAT was escorted out on to the balcony. In a bag that Mr L coaxed the BAT into with a piece of cardboard.

Mr L and Papa L got the BAT out of the bag and released him into the wild where he will likely perish in the cold.

I'd like to say I thought of a way to save the BAT, cause I'm all about the saving and not eating of the animals, but if something with teeth (and rabies, possibly) comes into the place where I sleep, all bets are off.

Gah, where I sleep...I can't believe I slept in this morning all cozy and sleepy while a FUCKING BAT was all cozy and sleepy in the closet.

It goes without saying that I am permanently scared from this BAT FIASCO...



[edited to add for the poor bat-having-souls who end up here through google: how to get rid of bats]

Monday, December 03, 2007

shopping and MAJOR drama in the apartment, a must read post

Today I went downtown with a twinkle in my eye and a wee bit of a spring to my step and I FINISHED ALL OF MY CHRISTMAS SHOPPING. I bought and bought and bought until I didn't need to buy any more. That makes me awesome, right? Everything is DONE. It's December 3rd and I am done with my holiday shopping - I've set a new record for myself.

Of course, I still need to get everything wrapped and I need to write out my Christmas cards...but that's nothing. Well, it's nothing but you can be sure that once I am done I will crow about it and expect everyone to lavish me with praise and congratulations.

Note: I should advise you that once I am done the wrapping and writing of cards, I will likely be a self-righteous bitch about the whole thing. Just so you know.

Oh, and of course not ALL of my holiday chores are complete. The apartment still needs to be cleaned and decorated to a disgusting degree for the Christmas party that's going down on Saturday. But at least now with the shopping done, that and getting my hair done are the only two pressing things I need to accomplish this week.

Well, the cleaning, the decorating and the hair AND I'll have to work really, really hard at not being squicked the fuck out.

You see, when I got back from my downtown killer shopping session I found something creepy in the apartment.

Now, let me preface this by saying that I am, for the most part, not a girlie girl. I can plunge a toilet, spiders don't freak me out, I can use an awful lot of power tools, I can snake a drain etc. etc.

But tonight's madness made me squeal like a little girl.

When I opened the door to the apartment I managed to catch sight of something out of the corner of my eye. At first, being a country girl, I thought what I was seeing was a bat. But a bat? In the city? In an apartment? In the winter? To consider such a thing would be pure folly!

So okay, it was a bird and a rather big bird at that.

With my eyeballs peeled so that they were almost rolling right out of my head I quickly saw that there was indeed something flying around the apartment. Okay, something flying around. Flying around the apartment. Eek! A BIRD in the apartment! What the fuck do you do with a BIRD in the APARTMENT and what, I wondered, were the chances of said bird hitting me in the head if I ventured further into the apartment?

I figured there was a pretty good chance I'd get hit in the head so I slammed the door and stood in the hallway, nothing short of totally stunned.

When I came to my senses I called Mr L on his cell and started freaking out, demanding that he help me figure this shit out. While he was working late in a most important meeting.

Mr L, being of clear and sound mind having not almost been hit in the face with a bird said that he would call Papa L and hopefully he could come by and help me out.

I then went downstairs to wait for Papa L cause there wasn't any way I was going far enough into the apartment to grab the phone and buzz him in when he arrived.

I tell you, when I saw Papa L heading up the pathway I almost cried with relief. Little did I know things were going to get worse before they got better(ish.)

We let ourselves into the apartment and there wasn't a bird in sight. Nothing flying around, nothing strutting around on the floor...just...nothing. Well, just the cat freaking out.

After we tried to determine how the thing got in (screens on the windows kinda shot down the idea of it getting in that way) we finally decided it was more important to find the thing than to figure out how the hell it got in in the first place.

A mostly-through search of the apartment turned up nothing. Nada. Zilch. Naturally at that point Papa L decided I was fucking loopy and there hadn't been a bird in the first place.

I was all, "it was THIS big! I saw it! I did!" but he really wasn't having any of it.

But thank heavens he kept looking because after a few minutes he said, "take the cat into the bathroom and close the door." I was all, "thank god, he doesn't think I'm crazy - he's FOUND IT!"

When I came back from securing the cat in the loo Papa L said, "so you thought you saw a bat?" I said I did. He said he knew I did BECAUSE THERE WAS A FUCKING BAT HANGING OFF THE BACK OF THE SOFA.

WTF? How does that even HAPPEN? Is it some super bat that crawled up one of the drains? Did it come in on one of our coats? I mean, anything is possible when we have NO CLUE how a bat came to live between the sofa and the wall.

At that point, we started to scramble for a bowl and cardboard to get the fucking thing out of here. An appropriate bowl and board was found and dearest Papa L scooped the fucker up and dumped it off the balcony.

I'm not even going to tell you about the noises it was making as it was being ferried out the door. No, I'm just not going to get into it.

Now I'm squicked out and drinking what will likely be the first of many beers tonight.

PS When Papa L was dropping the creepy creature off the balcony I was going, "da na na na na da na na na na BATMAN!" He didn't think that was very funny. I thought it was, but I wasn't handling the bat so...maybe he was right to not see the humour in it.


[edited to add for the poor bat-having-souls who end up here through google: how to get rid of bats]

Sunday, December 02, 2007

easygoing weekend summary

Still watching:


Little Britain


Naturally watched:


Hockey Night in Canada where the Maple Leafs kicked some Pittsburgh Penguins ass


Eating:


I want to vomit just thinking about it. The grease, oh god, the grease!


Using my brand new (although larger than pictured):


Flat iron


Listening to:


K-OS


Still loving up:


Fenstie


Decided to buy:


The Expedit shelf from IKEA

playing with fire - where I fuck up my face

This summer I used self-tanning lotion and my pale-ass self found it to be perfectly lovely. It turned down the glare of my creepy pale white legs and arms and I was very pleased with it. It looked far more natural than I had thought possible.

Today I was at the drug store and thought that I would like to try the self-tanning face lotion after my success with the body variety.

After poking about for a bit and noting how much it would cost for just a wee tube of the facial version, I started to think it wasn't such a hot idea after all. I also noted that I already had over $100 worth of crap in my shopping cart and to add the tanning face lotion would probably challenge the amount of cash I had in my wallet.

And then it hit me - possibly one of the worst ideas I've ever had.

Tonight I put my plan into action right after my shower.

I mixed a small amount of the body self-tanning lotion with my face cream. I put the combo of the two on my face.

I guess in a few days we'll know just how clever, or really fucking stupid I am.

Friday, November 30, 2007

gifts that cut

So that idea I had to scan and print pictures for my (biological) father because he likely doesn't have any pictures of us from my very early years? What a crappy idea. Seriously. First of all, I picked a 100 picture album and it's taking forever, like, an eternity to get the pics scanned. Then there's the hassle of having to put them back in the album in proper order because my mother has printed comments right in the album. They can't just go back in willy nilly, and a willy nilly approach which would have made the whole thing a lot easier to execute.

And then there was the (unanticipated) emotional upheaval.

I'm not entirely sure when my father exited the picture (no pun intended) so it was a little weird going through the album waiting for him to disappear and my step-father to appear. It was weird and unsettling. But mostly I found the whole thing upsetting because of the commentary on the back of one photo in particular.

The picture that caused the upset shows me, sitting on a blanket in the middle of the living room floor. On the back of the photo my mother wrote: Sitting up by herself for the first time. Daddy is close by just in case she falls.

That comment unraveled me to the point where I got a little teary on the subway. Always an embarassing and unwelcome situation to be sure.

Parents are meant to be close by in case their children fall, literally and figuratively. Sometime when I was around 3 years-old my father took off and left me to fall. I know his departure wasn't as simple as, She can fall and I don't give a shit...

But that's the way it felt, at least until I hit adolescence and just stopped giving a damn because it hurt too much to dwell on something I had absolutely no control over.

I guess it surprised me that at my age it can still hurt so much that at some point, when I still needed him, he wasn't there to catch me anymore. He wasn't there for anything.

Merry fucking Christmas, Pops.

Thursday, November 29, 2007

I smile at Christmas, just a little



After many hours of shopping (most spent at Winners telling myself to "PUT THAT DOWN, this is NOT manda shopping time") I have crossed another three people off my Christmas list.

I'm getting good at this.

Last night in order to just have her done with, I ordered my mum this pan:



Which was a totally selfish move on my part. We as a family have been coveting this pan for months now, and it will soon be a fat-making reality. I am licking my lips right now, as I type this, no joke. Pathetic, but true. Now I just need to hope I don't get dinged something bad by customs.

Tomorrow I'm going to scan all of the pictures I'll need to fill the photo album I bought my (biological) father. I know he doesn't have many, if any, pictures of me as a baby and small tot so I thought it would be an easy Christmas gift to scan pics out of my baby/toddler photo albums.

Saturday I'm going to rummage through my Christmas crap to find my Christmas cards so I can determine whether I need to pay full price for more before the post-season sales hit.

Wish me luck because by Saturday night I hope to have ALL of my cards done with. And then? Just to get really on top of things? I'm going to wrap and mail all of my parcels that are going overseas, out east or down to the US.

Apparently Christmas isn't such a terrible thing when you aren't a lazy bum about the whole thing...

CatGenie

What? No way. Seriously, no way.

Really? There is such a thing? No joke?

Video of the CatGenie in action.

Watch and be amazed. Or gobsmacked. Or just totally stunned and completely confused as to how things work on planet Earth.

Wednesday, November 28, 2007

poke my eyes out


I'm listening to the "ambient" cable channel and looked up to see there was a track playing called, "Sigh Becomes A 1000 Trees."

Fuck off, ambient channel. That's some crazy emo nonsense.

popping pills and shopping


Azithromycin


I finally broke down and took myself to the doctor today and lo, I experienced a bright, shining miracle. My wait for the doctor was only ten minutes. Ten. Minutes. I don't know what sort of freaky worm hole I fell into (a wait time of less than three hours at that clinic is totally unheard of) but I'm certainly not complaining.

About that, anyway. I'm bitching mightily about my pains and various nasty secretions and the fact that I feel like death.

We established that I have passed the point where my feeling poorly can be blamed on the flu virus alone. Apparently I've got multiple infections. Which is to say that when I get sick, I really know how to get sick. I rock sick in a way that few can. I've got me an ear infection and something funky is going on in my lungs. Yup, you give me fever. Fever in the morning, fever all through the night.

Now I am the proud owner of antibiotics. If you know me, you know I am not behind antibiotics as a rule but two infections in my body and feeling like shit for almost two weeks straight has me eating them like candy. Yummy candy. Yummy candy that will mean I can walk to the bathroom without having to hold onto walls because I'm so unsteady on my feet.

And shopping, then there was that...

After my appointment with the doctor I made a really stupid move and decided to get some Christmas shopping done. I feel like shit cubed but I managed to cross two people off my list! I'm making merry, let me tell you. But the next time I see the "perfect!" gift for someone and it pretty much equals my own body weight, I'm not buying it no matter how perfect it may seem at the time. Nor will I lug said anvil-like gift home on the TTC during rush hour. Talk about a recipe for me to lash out and go ape shit on strangers.

The lousy part of the shopping trip? Seeing at least two things that would have been PERFECT for two people I no longer speak to. What a kick in the rump that I had to leave their perfect gifts on the shelf...

Tuesday, November 27, 2007

summary

Watching:


Little Britain


Listening to:


Imogen Heap


Suffering from:


Influenza


Worrying about:


Pneumonia


Smothering with love:


The last cat standing


Cursing:


Christmas bullshit I'd rather pass on

Wednesday, November 07, 2007

rotkin

Truly terrifying mess of mouldy, neglected pumpkin:

Friday, November 02, 2007

where I force you to look at a crappy picture of my Jack o' Lantern



Even if I'm not entirely sure whether I'm spelling "Jack o' Lantern" right.

Wednesday, October 17, 2007

still sad but loving...

Saturday, October 13, 2007

so that's goodbye



Today I said goodbye to the skinny, nervous (sometimes unnerving) kitty who never caused anyone any trouble at all.

The vet suggested he could run some tests, but he admitted the beast was old and worn out. So I declined the tests because I found the poor little bugger in a cage at the Humane Society, and I didn't want his final days spent behind bars again. Doing time in a cage once in a kitty's life is enough, I think.

I didn't want his last night to be spent alone in some vet's office, so instead we all spent it in bed together with much petting and loving and soothing words after he'd had the last food he managed to eat.

I considered holding him in my arms as they administered the injection (as I did with the last two cats I had to have euthanized) but he was never a cat that liked to be held (EVER) so instead I just rubbed his head and back while I murmured last words of goodbye into his perky little ears.

And now I'm home and I knew this was going to hurt...but it hurts far more than I had bargained for.