Wednesday, May 31, 2006

...grishkin has a maisonette...

Today I played moral support, accompanying Rachel to get a haircut. The stylist was a disaster, the cut... well I said "it could be worse", but honestly, I haven't seen much worse. She was flipping out afterwards, and rightfully so. It was no Jimmy Phuong that's for sure - I made her go back finally and tell the girl she was disatisfied, make her fix it, if she could. She couldn't really, she had gone much too short for that. She did improve it somewhat, but this just has to be grown out again, plain and simple. I am in the process now of assembling for her a care package: clips, barettes, bandanas, hairbands - to tide her over for the next three weeks. Note to self: Tonic in Fairview Mall, places you do not want to go.

In the midst of all this, I did some little shopping. Not too much, nothing excessive. A black skirt for work, which I think I may don tomorrow; and two tube tops from American Eagle. Tube tops and linen skirts are what you most often find me in during the summer. Also linen or cotton sundresses. That's about as close as one can get to being naked, and in the humid, muggy summers we have here, that's how you want to be.

Haircuts are so panic inducing. I have been putting mine off for weeks because I am not sure how short I want to go. I *want* to go short, I have this inexplicable desire to go short but last year I went mid-length short and ended up in tears afterwards. What to do? But really, what if I did cut all my hair off? Pixie-like? The stylist at Sudi's who does my eyebrows said short would suit me, that I have strong facial features but I am not so sure. I have a feeling I would just look like a boy. You know what I need? One of those computer programs where you put your photo in and you play around with different styles. Yeah, I could totally go for that.

Tuesday, May 30, 2006

...the annotated foucault...

For Javod, who doesn't deserve it because he left me for a perky blonde, footnotes and explanations as promised.

"One minute, there's a famine; the next, there's a feast. It's a recurring pattern in your life. This period of difficulties will soon end. Give it just a little more time and then evidence of the coming good times will start to emerge."

That definately seems to be the pattern of the week, right on Phil1. It looks like I'm being offered a full-time babysitting stint for two incredible kids over July/August. We are going to try and finalize it on Thursday and if that works out, I will have to juggle my work shifts to weekends and closes. This has the potential to be a really fun, relaxing and creative job for the summer. Which is fantastic because I have been really frustrated and stressed the last few weeks - I would enjoy the change in pace.

School is finished in four weeks - I am going to miss these kids something fierce. Some of the first graders are going to be in the 1/2 split next year with the same teacher I have been working with, so I will have another year with them. I am celebrating the end of the year with a huge purchase from Scholastic; part building my own future library, part nostalgia. Either way, taking advantage of the incredible prices Scholastic offers people in the school market.

Two weeks to the British Invasion2 and I cannot wait. Between the Montreal weekend3, hanging with Steph, company softball tournament and daytripping to Niagara Falls the next couple of weeks look good. Really really good.



1. Phil Booth, astrologer for The Toronto Star, and indirect maker of all my decisions
2. The return of one Miss Stephanie from England to Toronto for a week of drinking and debauchery.
3. June 8-10 I am heading to Montreal officially to see my brother, unofficially to see everything else; Sheida you better be ready for me. I am going to be in Montreal and I expect to see you. I'm only there Friday/Saturday so hopefully we can grab lunch or something, or go out for drinks.

Sunday, May 28, 2006

...he wanted to delight her again...

Watching X-Men III last night almost killed me. It was incredible, and it was very frustrating, and I got way too into it because of my life-long love affair with all things X-Men. I cried, I clapped out loud, at one point I thought I stopped breathing, and couldn't watch and pitched forward in my seat. Just... too much.

If you go watch it, STAY until the very end of the credits. There is an extra scene, shhhhh. Jason told me this when I ran into him yesterday, there was something on the internet about it. So we stayed, and it was crazy. I do not understand it, I don't pretend to understand it, but so it happened. Now all my X-Men theories are in full effect, crazy anticipating the next one.

Saturday, May 27, 2006

...me all alone/top of the world...

This was a wonderful day - it was bright and quick moving, light stepping. Among other things, a little girl turned 4 today, and pranced around the store in her tiara. She had a red balloon, and at some point in her playing she let it go; it was filled with helium and floated to the top of the section, near the steps.

At the end of the night, Timothy brought it up to me and I convinced Ian to unlock the door so Kate and I could set it free. Outside on Bay Street, it had finally stopped raining. We stood for a moment, then released the balloon into the sky. It took nearly 5 minutes for it to completely disappear from sight, and we stood there the whole time. It also made my night - for some reason, this small thing of setting free a red balloon into a dark sky, and seeing it wind slowly up, wondering where it will end up... and I am so happy Ian let us do this. He laughed a little, but that's okay too.

It's so funny how your luck and happiness and personality can alter in the space of a day. Yesterday was incredible frustration and storming out of the store on my break to be rescued by a delegating Julie and roving Claire; today there was a flying balloon.

The balloon was among other things, as I said before. "Other things" were generally wonderful and comprise of a bakery breakfast with Sara, a run-in in his hood of the annexe with HJW, a publishing-maven girlfriend bringing me ARE's, and later in the day, a smile that nearly had me hit the floor. So Claire, you aren't the only one feeling "want/can't have". I will kick myself all the way until our movie date tomorrow, at which point I am sure mutual declarations of the devastations of unrequited crushing will ensue...

Friday, May 26, 2006

...when's that voice going to drop...

Things to think about:

i) This morning a random self-help author/motivational speaker I met a couple times in the store ran into me on my way to breakfast in the annexe. Chatted for a few, and out of nowhere he asks me to give him a call this week if I'd be willing to help ghostwrite his new book. So random - but needs consideration. It would involve taking the year off school, and that's a big decision to make. It reminded me of when Me 2 We was being written, and Deepa was helping write that. I want to email her and see what she thought of the experience, and how much she was paid; get some insight.

ii) The graffiti research might be published - if that comes through, that's another big chunk of time that will be needed to polish off the writing and include all the data, and not just the minimum sampling that sufficed for in-class submission.

iii) My first instinct on hearing what I did this morning was a happy perk: "reeeeaaaaallly" said the voice in my head. Not a reaction that would make Rachel comfortable, or any of my friends really. I have to start doing better things, thinking better thoughts. This is not a good idea. This would actually take self-destructive hedonistic pursuits to a whole new planet, one that has no sanity or happy ending. Well. Actually it would probably have a pretty happy ending, at least for a little while.

iv) Claire is thinking she might not be able to afford the East Coast this summer because of going to France next month, but I still really want to go. I need the break, and the quiet, and the seeing other parts of Canada. Wondering if I should go on my own - I would love that. I love travelling on my own. Should ask Steph - she did that, last summer.

...the human body should NOT bend that way!...

I had to post this, it irked me so. One of those "uber-feminists" who takes the thing so far as to flirt with irrationality. It's from the Ellie column in the Toronto Star, and she shot this girl down good:

Q: I'm a girl, 27, who wants to air one of my pet peeves. I know a lot of people, especially females, agree with me on this one.

It's about when I go to a restaurant and the host (male or female) says, "Hi, guys," regardless of who I'm with. I'm not a guy and I don't want to be referred to as such, especially by wait staff in a restaurant when I'm with a date or even friends of either sex. Please post this as a note of awareness to restaurant owners to train their staff to be inclusive and respectful.

- Annoyed

A: Lucky you, with such a teeny burden to bear. But I notice you call yourself a "girl" at 27.

Let's deal with realities: you're a woman and should, by now, have a level of tolerance for what's intended as a casual greeting, and not a description.

Also, in this era of varied personal styles and blurred gender lines, it's sometimes easier and less likely to offend by going with the popularly accepted vernacular of "guys."


From yesterday: I borrowed Rachel's dark olive green mini skirt last night after much pleading and grovelling and promising to worship her forever. She wants it back immediately after it has served it's purpose on the weekend, which I fully intended to comply with until I got home and tried it again. Now it has officially become a "long term loan". Nothing I look this good in should be denied me :P

This weekend has X-Men 3, cake for breakfast, and writing the My Uncle Napoleon review -

Wednesday, May 24, 2006

...it's not supposed to last forever...

Wisdom from Joan of Arcadia:

"Thinking you are the worst person in the world is no different from thinking you are the best person in the world. It is giving yourself a place in the universe you haven't earned".

...in the spirit of...

June 8-10 I am going to be in Montreal. It has been settled, work has been arranged, and I will go. It's just two days really, Friday and Saturday, and I have to be back by Sunday morning. But even this will be a nice little break, mini-vay as we used to call it.

...i have an idea concerning your predicament...

Communication by proxy, three months later:

I'm not going to rework this and analyse it and deconstruct it within a shadow of itself; I'm not going to question what you meant, or why you said it. I don't want to know why you could say "we came so close..." almost wistfully, as if there was this ideal of romance, hazy floating waiting and we were almost there; as if circumstance and accidental obstacles were the only thing to get in the way. I'm not going to remind you that there was no circumstance, there was just you. I might think it, but I never will attack your self-whining as infantile and irrational, at least not to your face. But you know that I do think it, that complaining about the unfairness of being a romantic but being alone is ricidulously stupid considering it was your own choice. The cynical bitch in me (I'm really not one though) might have me say if you wear your heart on your sleeve, it's only because you think yours is more worthy of showing off, and that you are oblivious to others sporting similar badges.

Oh brother.

I think I know the reason why people in previous centuries were more content and stable than most of us can claim to be today. This cyber-reality that we all live and thrive in so easily is also what keeps us hanging on long past the expiration date. Even worse, this emergence on an extended online network brought me back when I *was* past. Isn't that silly?

I'd like to think if someone had shown up last year and stuck a post-it on your forehead saying Best Before: Anything Serious Develops, I would have known well enough to change direction. Since I can't know that, I'm left to consider what I *do* know:

i) It was more than a respectable run, and I'm glad I know that even if you don't.
ii) At least I got out of it the Second Season of ER on DVD... which you are never getting back.

I think the lack of sleep gave me Wednesday-afternoon bitterness. I am going to ge read in the sun, and regroup. Someone just called to take me out to dinner tonight, and that will be just lovely.

...may i admire you again today...

The funny thing about the name of my blog is the supreme irony. There is no one answer to everything, and if there is I certainly do not know it. But maybe that is not too bad, because I have people to help me out. No fewer than three of my friends came to visit me today. One was Derek who brought me humour and lanky hugs. The other was Tara, and my heart was ecstatic when I saw her. I am kidnapping her and Derek both for lunch or something tomorrow afternoon. The third was Rachel. She brought me silver earrings from Barcelona, her help in fixing up some guacamole, and the (stolen) makings for delicious RL Fudge Overboards the likes of which hasn't been seen since the 11th grade. She also stayed with me to watch Pretty in Pink. The entire mix of all these people, plus a surprisingly supportive intervention by someone unexpected on my behalf just made me feel all fuzzy today.

On the other hand, a couple of my other friends are not having the same fuzzy-feeling warmth today, and that upsets me. I msged one of them and told her what I felt (nutshell: you are gorgeous and supahfly) and will hug her tomorrow. The others - I want to help. I want to make happy. We will try. One of them might be beyond me, but she is probably the most deserving of being happy and secure, and if there is anything I can do to support that, I want to do it. She has spent the last couple of years listening to my every crisis, none of which comes anywhere close to her current one, so if there's any way I can lessen that pull, I need to do it.

This has been such a ridiculous week. Just completely absurd. I feel that I am on another planet, and look around me and shake my head. I hate being clear-headed in a sea of ... something. Michelle and I were talking about past experiences today, and I mentioned my grand flee to Quebec those years ago. I want to repeat - I am increasingly tempted to just go away somewhere, on my own. There isn't a single person right now that I would want to take with me anywhere. I just want some quiet for a little while.

Tuesday, May 23, 2006

...buying time machines online...

Turns out the inside tree was harbouring one mess of little bugs in it. Note to self: nature is evil. Made my dad come down and get rid of it near 2 in the morning. But there was no way I was sharing my room with the creatures of the night, even if they were more or less content to stay in the plant, which was across my place near the front door.

But seriously - we will visit Cody still of course. But camping? Out of the question. No trees, no bugs, no plants, no dirt, no nature. The environment can fuck itself. I will stick to my cities, thanks. From now on I do as the cosmopolitans do - bamboo and cacti, otherwise only if plastic.

...heart is enormous...

Wheeeeee!

Monday, May 22, 2006

...encroaching suburbia...

I wonder how many other girls have that ridiculous custom of wearing hot lingerie when going out, part thrill esteem booster, part happy anticipation? It depends of course on the group you are going out with. But if that group happens to contain a guy only you (and maybe a pixie blond once-and-future revolutionary) know you have eyes for... it doesn't even matter that nothing but a supremely lush evening is likely to set that chain in motion. Just the fact that *you* know the black lace is there is enough. Well. Not entirely enough. But for tonight, it will do.

...moving to ska...

That was too much fun - it was incredible. What an amazing day. Several points, none of which are related or are likely to mean much to anyone:

i) He is too cute for words. Honestly, I can't stand it. Nor that he has a girlfriend. No one suffers like I suffer.

ii) Maggie is a superstar - we had so much fun at the FTC benefit show earlier, so much that phone calls from a boy were a bit of an intrusion. The kind of intrusion that gives me goosebumps, but still intrustion. Also, there was an Aimable there tonight, and I was thrilled. He is my lovely.

iii) The date did not happen - the boy ran into my aunt, of all people, at a restaurant and extraction would have been difficult. My parents were having a party here themselves, and for more reasons than one I needed to be here. More reasons than one, but only one that meant anything. Such a disaster. Wednesday maybe, maybe not. I'm ambivalent.

iv) I ran out of primer, and tomorrow is Victoria Day so the art stores are likely to be closed. Hmm. Although that is not a tragedy - tomorrow is lunch and outings with Laura and Inna; followed by reading; and then a birthday. Please weather, be nice.

Saturday, May 20, 2006

...my son, optimus prime...

Removed by the author for the purposes of preventing moral discouragement before a Very Important Night.

...making it easy...

Iman called me at 8:30 this morning to tell me the good news: her brother is finally awake and it looks like the surgery went quite well, with minimal damage from being unconscious so long. Incredible relief. I had been really worried the past couple of days, and she was a wreck, so this was really good to hear.

Remember we had a plan for lots of sleep? It didn't quite happen. Sir Nick called around one to go get drinks, and I was intrigued at the concept of "getting drinks" in Thornhill. What did it mean? Where would we go? Does Thornhill even have bars? Apparently it does, and (maybe because of its suburbanish location) the one we went to was somewhat fluid on the idea of "last call". Came home whopping headache around 3:30. But such fun!

Summer is a funny thing. It seems as soon as the university year ends, I pick up with the friends I knew in high school. During the course of the year, we speak really only a couple of times, brief catch-ups in the midst of other insanities. But the week exams are over, a summer of deliciously nerdy mayhem and late night antics ensues, and it's as if time didn't pass at all: we are where we were, and exactly how we were. Monday bingo with Dee and Rachel; greasy-diner escapades with Inna and Laura (ladies: we are overdue. We need to get on this), and various bad decisions with Sir Nick, who I hearted all through high school and secretly still do. Time is an odd thing that way. Sometimes it seems to have no effect at all. After all these years, we can go weeks and months without speaking to each other, then reconnect seamlessly. I am grateful for that - these forever friends who are always there for me, and for whom I am always here.

Before the nostalgia got in the way, the point of this story was "oh god, my head hurts". Damn you Nicholas.

...tumbling off the ferry...

My entire body hurts today - this morning I had the most ridiculously difficult workout. An hour long steps + weights class. Not your regular cardio, this had strength and resistance training built right in, and worked muscles I didn't even know existed. So now there's pain, but the good kind.

Just coming home from work, and I have my second wind. Have absolutely no idea what to do with myself. Usually at this time of the night I'm either bankrupting myself on long distance phone calls, filling out random useless surveys, or having ridiculously entertaining, if wholly inappropriate, MSN conversations. Tonight, nothing. I am not working tomorrow: I should just go to bed right now and refuse to set my alarm, wake up whenever my body tells me to. Yeah. Sounds like a good plan.

My thoughts are with one of my really good friends tonight, whose brother is ill. I'm praying for him, and for her.

Friday, May 19, 2006

...loaded like a sailor...

Yesterday was overload of wonderful - a date with my cousins, and general girl fun; brief, barely there shift at work; and coffee with my singing, thilling Mel.

This is Victoria Day Weekend - someone needs to come with me to see fireworks, somewhere. It has to be done. Fireworks are one of those things for me; happy sign from the cosmos, pretty lights. They just make everything wonderful.

Wednesday, May 17, 2006

...to let go...

R.I.P. Starscream. You were a lovely kitten, and Cody will miss you. I'm sad today because he's sad.

...the views of these experts...

From the Toronto Star today, this had me a little irritated.

"A woman Canadian soldier"... aside from the grammatical awkwardness, I was frustrated that the fact she was a woman made this a more important announcement than the deaths of any of our other soldiers had. When the first Canadian soldier was killed in combat, no one said ".. and was the first man to be killed in battle", or anything like that.

...but it's not his birthday...

Watching Life channel on my day off, "The Mom Show". It is my favorite show on television, bar none. I am ridiculous on so many levels.

I'm feeling a little lethargic today, and missed a lunch date I had been thinking about for days. Later I am supposed to be seeing Sam's photo exhibit at DX with a friend, hopefully I will not miss that. I spent hours last night fiddling with the new template, and it just wouldn't work. Things work so easily in myspace, but in blogger they fall apart. Too many codes you have to adjust manually. I'm useless. Guess we'll be staying with this one for the time being.

Tuesday, May 16, 2006

...ouch...

Wow. If ever I needed to know what it feels to get punched in the gut, that was it. That one line, that was it. I completely hurt right now. I... need more friends that would kill for me. Or I could do it myself, they just have to move the body.

...on hiatus...

There's a lovely Concordian building me a new template. Back in a few days. Play nice, stay pretty.

Monday, May 15, 2006

...wallowing by proxy...

I'm crying my soul out for Izzy, and the finale of Grey's Anatomy has left me utterly heartbroken. There was Love, and they took it away from her. Just, the most devastating episode.

...miss jacks...

Throughout the week, I generally split my time at the school between the grade 1's and the grade 2's. However, I spend a period a week, on Mondays, with the grade 4's doing math, and I swear to god that one 40 minute period usually drains me of all life, because the teacher is an unorganized disaster and the class a tenuously organized mayhem. Hearing today that she had a substitute in, I thought all hell would be breaking loose, as substitutes don't tend to be able to control these guys. When you have no consistent discipline system over the course of the year, it's tough to stay focused. But this substitute today was incredible. I walked in and the kids were writing quietly, name tags on the front of their desks. Coats and bangs were on the hooks and not strewn on the floor. Even the "problem" kids were really trying. I was amazed, and stunned.

Things learned: There are no bad kids. There are bad parents, and worse teachers.

There are also amazing teachers - the grade 1's are so polite and brilliant and well-behaved and enthusiastic, and their teacher is the integral reason for that. She's sweet and bright, and understands each of them as people. She encourages them, and inspires them to go whatever distance they can. The eighth graders have spent a couple weeks working on inventions for a school-wide competition, and today their projects were available upstairs for students to see during recess. All the grade ones voted that they wanted to go, so she okayed it and I took them single file up the stairs to the third floor (the first time for most of the kids). They were incredible; they sat quietly during the presentations, and voted with their little markers on the ballots, and asked great questions. I was so proud. And the principal was there, and smiled at me! AND later in the morning five of my kids, out of 22, had perfect spelling tests. That's almost a fifth of the class! Best day ever.

Sunday, May 14, 2006

...stepping stone karma...

I adore my family. Seriously, I am ass-backwards in love with them. With Baby Sam, who is almost getting ready to toddle around. And with all the other rugrats as well. I like sitting on the carpet with everyone around me telling stories and Turkish jokes; I like morasa polo for dinner and watermelon dessert; and I love joint puddle mothers/daughters Mothers Day gifts.

So happy today.

...a bi gezunt...

I felt the need to make my presence known this morning - Look! I'm awake! And coherent! I don't even know why it's important, but there it is.

Reasons why I don't [always] drink, in brief:
i) indiscriminite distribution of affection, with delicate consequences
ii) making an ass of myself in front of a sweet guy, alienating him in the process
iii) verbal incontinence and spilling of my heart

Re: iii) I don't know how we got onto the subject. I spent a few minutes afterewards thinking about it - from where did he suddenly rear his ugly head? She wanted to know what happened, not for gossip she isn't like that, but because it had been a Big thing for me, all those months and all those feelings, and though I want otherwise, I haven't been able yet to get rid of them completely. We supress, and stay busy, and think we're past and suddenly there it is.

And I meant what I told her completely - I *have* learned new things about him this year, and I *don't* feel like I know him anymore, and I *see* that he is not a good person, not in the high standard I put to being a good person. But getting sick this past week reminded me of last year's adventure with bronchitis, and collapsing on the couch. The boy tossed the comforter in the dryer with fabric softener, so it was all hot and teddybearspringtime smelling, and came back and threw it on me. And that is heaven, let me tell you, there is nothing better when you aren't feeling well. How in the world do you reconcile the different identities people contain? When did that person turn into that other person, the one who could say to me essentially the harshest thing I have ever heard from anyone. She cringed when I dropped that one.

It's not an isolated incident either. This past month has been a ridiculous saturation of people with varied personalities. People contain multitudes, yes, but this is different. Their inherent characters are more than one. Pick one, and go with it. But I digress. The point was being over it, and how frustrating it is that after whisky # 3 of a Saturday night, I'm not so over it.

Isabel Bayrakdarian is on TV. God she has a gorgeous voice. She's Armenian - at one point last night I remember telling someone about Tara and our funny Iranian/Armenian story, and today I miss her more than words. Clearly that was a sign - I need to call her today.

...but it makes you feel alive...

That was certainly interesting. I'm not sure how I am about all of that, but surprisingly I do feel somewhat annoyed. Not quite angry, but certainly disconcerted. For one thing, I wasn't anywhere close to being as out of it as I appeared, although I was sick from whatever the hell that manic Russian pharmacist gave me earlier. For another thing, well - we won't go there maybe, it's not important. I guess the only important thing is I wanted some kind of answers, and I some kind of got them.

So a little bit of a downer at the end, but not enough to overrule an essentially incredible day. Just... phenomenal. Amazing event, and the rain held off to the last beautiful moment. Had a great task today, lots of energy, lots of responsibility, and I did so so good. I can't even tell you how much I miss doing big events, whether for FTC or last year with NXNE. I completely get off on the energy and the vibe and stress of it all, pure rush. I don't phase easily, and that makes a huge difference. Cucumber cool.

I am all about cucumber cool today. B, I think, has a part to play in that. We had a lovely chat tonight, at an opportune moment, and she stressed the importance of knowing what you're worth. Story of my early 2006, figuring that one out. It didn't take too long though. I'm worth all of it, more than falling into half-baked somewhat offers. I deserve all of it, and I am worth all of it.

Saturday, May 13, 2006

...matt barber already sang me this...

The great thing about Liza being snatched up by HarperC. is that today I got a pile of free reading in advances.

I want to be snatched up by HarperC. Or any of the others. Please.

Friday, May 12, 2006

...he looks like is the devil...

By 1:30 this afternoon, I had already maxed out my charge balance for the day. What I had to show for it: new shoes, 2 new pairs of pants, alterations, Biotherm makeup, a denim miniskirt and the legs to go with it. Therepeutic shopping combines the energy-consuming powers of the gym with new material funs. I may be broke, but I feel better.

Work was fun - everyone running around getting ready for the event, and today is the day the biggies send inventory analysts to go over space issues. Because with the backed up product, caffeinated customers and a section to clean I had time to do a walk through with them. Grrr.

I have a date on Wednesday, and it is written in the book. It is Written and so it Shall Be. Smiles.

...he looks like the devil...

Kevin Frankish was talking about the weekend traffic, and it turned to a rant about summer weekend traffic in general; he starts complaining about the fact that there is always some psycho closing down parts of streets for some event or another. Well this weekend, it's Bay street they are shutting down on a Saturday for some event.

I love Kevin Frankish. My guilt was paramount. I'm sorry dear, about your traffic problems, because this is our event.

Thursday, May 11, 2006

...smart man things...

I need a long distance phone card tonight. I'm settling for email, but it's a weak substitute. I need pragmatic advice without the yelling. I need an English girl trapped in the Emirates. Oh lady, do I ever.

[Ana you psycho, Javod and I were both looking for your email last night. I emailed you at gherty and it bounced back to me. Get in touch, find me with your good account.]

Wednesday, May 10, 2006

...i shake the dirt from my sandals as i walk...

Loopy has posted someone's unofficial translation of the Ahmadinejad letter to Bush on his site today, and it is really fascinating. The letter is well-written and pointed, without being overly confrontational. It was very hard for me to reconcile this letter with the image popular media, both English and Farsi-language in the West, gives of Ahmadinejad. I'm not sure what to think. I was disappointed that Bush dismissed it as readily as he did, I was hoping more of a dialogue would develop.

...the politics of education...

Is this what is in store for me?! What ever happened to apples, and nice presents in tissue wrap at the end of the year? And way to set the right example for your kid.

...you don't have to tell me that...

Bastard says my cough sounds too juicy. That hardly sounds like a professional medical opinion. Chest x-ray blues.

HFTS:
Being quiet about what you're unhappy about is noble, but the fact remains that "the squeaky wheel always gets the oil." It is necessary to speak up and be heard. So find out who's holding the can of oil and get those wheels turning.


Yeah. I'll get right on that. Erm...

In other news - I am addicted to the Canadian Heritage Moments on TV. They give me goosebumps, and inspire happy Canada pride in me.

Tuesday, May 09, 2006

...we're sorry for the inconvenience but you're going to have to leave now...

Earlier was talking to Aimable for the first time in almost 5 months - oh how I missed that boy. He was telling me about his problems with his girlfriend, and how they are on the brink of breaking up. "That's it" he said, "there is one more girl left and if that one doesn't work out either, I am just going to be single".

I told him I thought that was horrible - he treats relationships like business transactions. Where's the romance? He says romance is just a means to an unnecessary emotional rollercoaster. He'd rather be happy. Content. I can't accept that - what about love?! He thinks you can create love.

"I thought Rwandans were supposed to be romantic, and sensual, and emotional"!, I cried. "Oh please." he snorted, "what kind of Rwandans do you know?. We are nothing like that."

Sigh.

Afterwards, we talked about memories. Good times - sushi with Joe G. who is suddenly getting married now (!); the girls at the office, and summer sports; and Lloyd, who isn't coming back now until next December, and who I miss all the time. I was crushed when I came back from Iran and found out he had been here for a week, and gone back to Sri Lanka the day before. And the boy is so focused, he doesn't respond to personal emails until months afterwards. I want to yell at him. "Dammit Hanoman", I will say, "I spent the better part of my adolescence in love with you, you will *answer* my emails. Promptly."

...family album...

I'm just plain giddy this morning, bouncing off the walls. Off to the gym to work it all out. Change of readings plans: started "Still Life with Woodpecker" in honour of the Only Iranian in Stillwater, OK. I'm guessing he's the only one, anyway. How many can there be?

This is a funny week for people. Everyone is surprising me. Surprise!

I think Phil Booth and I need to sit down and have a chat about what he saw in my stars. And he will tell me more specifically what he means by what he said. And can we negotiate? I want better stars.

Monday, May 08, 2006

...all that splendor...

Finished "The Girl who Played Go" just now and it made me melancholy - doesn't anyone write happy endings anymore?

I don't know what to pick up next. Maybe "The Winner of the National Book Award", or "The Book Thief". Although someone brought me "Shopgirl" the other day, and that could work too.

...all sales final, new stock daily...

I'm a little concerned that I am *still* at home sick. Slept in today until just past one, and just now left my bedroom. Have lost 8 pounds since Friday morning, when I last weighed myself at the gym. Every time I say two words together I cough up my soul. I should probably be seeing my doctor, don't know why I haven't yet. Just... don't really like going to the doctor when I'm actually sick; they always find something, and then there's a lot of inconveniences. This is not working for me. I have to be at work tomorrow. Son of a bitch.

Sunday, May 07, 2006

...we would never leave each other...

This is what I was thinking during MI3: That the movie is inadvertently social commentary on the joke that is the American development apparatus. Think about it - Hunt (ie. Tom Cruise) works for the IMF, the "Impossible Missions Force". They save the world, mostly. Rogue operatives within the group, like Muskgrave, spin out on their own huge missions that are really unequivocal failures, justifying it in the name of infrastructure, cleaning up, and the inevitable victory of democracy. You know who else does that? The "real" IMF, our friendly International Monetary Fund. That other "impossible missions force".

Just so you don't start thinking I can't even enjoy the fun in a $15 action movie on a Sunday night, I'll let you in on the other thing I was thinking during the movie: Tom Cruise is hot. Whatever bad I have said about him in the past, I take back. And any man that wants a direct line to bringing the sex kitten out of a woman [feminist insert: not all women], just... do as he does. Brawny hot car driving, building breaking, running sweaty through the streets of Shanghai ACTION.

I used to want to be an international spy myself. Bobkitten and I even went downtown once in early high school in our little black outfits, carrying our gadgets (read: her cell phone, my palm pilot) and pretended we were Bond girls. Or something. The only action we got was running out of the restaurant through the back door by the kitchen, on our way to a Secret Assignment. I eventually realized the greater thing than being an international spy was dating an international spy. I don't know why I came to that realization - I mean, the girlfriends don't get the hot cars. But seriously. Someone should be secret agent to my bond girl. That would rock.

...if we could write our own lines...

Dedicated to a funny tripping laughing girl in the UK, spinning circles today

I found it on the toilet paper holder, off to the side. Not on the wall or on the back of the door, where you usually find stall philosophy.





I found it beautiful and true, mostly. Except that sometimes everything IS always love. Not in the sense of that emotion shared but rather a hazy, wind-whipped weather pattern that drops onto you one day. When that happens, it doesn't matter how it happens or for how brief a time you stay in it; when it happens it is the only thing, until it leaves again. And if you're sad, that's why. And if you're bright, that's why. And if you laugh to yourself in the crowd, or run circles around your niece and throw her in the air, or marvel at the reflected rainbow on a gray fabric bulletin board, that's why. And absolutely when you dance close in too-high shoes, belly thrilling, only slightly faking... in that second, everything really is always love.

...dramatic tension ensued...

There's a new bookstore in town, TYPE, and I want to go. Now that school is over, I shall go. Not this week though since... well I haven't really gotten out of bed much this weekend. Something is wrong. We spoke to the sexy Dr. DodgyBongo this morning and she gave me holistic words of wisdom, but also suggested antibiotics, which I shall get as soon as my own doctor is back in his office. Who doesn't work weekend?! People get sick on weekends!

Blah.

Back to TYPE - a third of their store is a kids section! There's a gallery in the basement, and the owner's mother does a children's book circle every month, and kids give their recommendations. And the ceilings are tall and The Star describes browsing there as looking through your smart best friends bookshelves. Lots of Canadian Fiction! And art books! And Virginia Johnson designed totes for them! I want to goooo! This has the chance of usurping TWB as my favorite bookstore. Oh, nerdness.

Saturday, May 06, 2006

...play all...

So. I got away from the truck that ran me over long enough to come online, after a day of enjoying motionlessness, to the devastation that none of my self-professed latebirds are online. Which is understandable considering the fact that it's Saturday night and others are rosy-cheek healthy. But it is still disappointing.

You know what isn't disappointing? Arrested Development. That shit is good. An also-sick Rachel and I got through the first season today. In our lethargic and groggy conditions, a TV season seemed the best bet. We only had to hit the button on the remote once.

I'm such a mix of things right now. Restless energy. Discovering myself in "Joan of Arcadia". She too was born without a radar.

Friday, May 05, 2006

...in brief...

i) Exams are over, and the year ended on a high note. Nailed the exam, and the term paper which was handed back afterwards. Top mark in the class, only A+, "outstanding work!" and other comments, about my research on gendered language in Toronto graffiti.

ii) The news services are finally reporting about the arrest of Ramin Jahanbegloo in Iran. It took them long enough - how many days ago did we start talking about it?

iii) Hot boy high! HJW has a name!

iv) Still sick. And sicker.

v) Farnam! Be my date for Googoosh?

...there's going to be a lot of red faces when the world ends...

How exactly am I supposed to write an exam today? There is fever and nausea and body aches and general misery. There's a lot of drugs mixed in there too. Maybe too much - I tend to get a little pill happy when I'm feeling not so good. I take one for this, one for that, and so on until I realize... maybe altogether they are not so good? Maybe.

There's also a celebration tonight of the birthday of a hot girl, and I need to be there. For more reasons than one, it might be better that I *not* be there, but be there I will. I'm never one to shy away from bad decisions.

I forgot to add wooziness, above. There's some of that too. And the thing from the commercial where the cartoon man is sick and his head is floating away from his body on a balloon? I am all about that.

From Phil Booth and HFTS: They say that a watched pot never boils or that a cake won't rise if you keep opening the oven door. Mars, though, is urging you to get things moving more quickly. So, don't let a slow process take longer than needed. Turn up the heat.

Wednesday, May 03, 2006

...it was a handsome priest...

I was debating whether to post or not, because posting three times in one day is a kind of excess I wasn't ready for. But then I thought, this week was all about excess so why should today be any different?

I have a confession. I spent the week wavering in my loyalty to blogger. Circumstances (ie: peer pressure) brought me to myspace, and then I spent hours there, and it was a disaster. By which I mean, it was a blast. Ipso facto, I got nothing done.

Now I even have the lingo down

I have a number of problems with myspace though. For one thing, if ever there was a platform to get one onto cyber-stalking, that is it. I mean, it tells you when everyone is online like you are. So you are all online, together, and know it. Even if you are doing other things, and they are doing other things, you stay on because that is just the way it is. And eventually you start chatting and it is about MarioKart and then it picks up nuances. And how many nuances can you create about MarioKart? Too many. Let me tell you. Then there's the comments feature - I love comments, I love people leaving me comments. It's a sign that says "hi, I'm here, and listening to you, and You are important to Me." Or something. But the way it does it is that you can't comment on your own page. So if someone leaves you a comment, you can't respond to it unless you take your thread to THEIR page, and then leave the comment. So you waste all this time, hopping from one page to another when it would make so much more sense to leave it all together like civilised people. I haven't even gotten to the psychoemotive effects! Like why are there only three new comments. In fact, why haven't people updated their myspace blogs - I mean I have read "ode to hot hat boy" half a dozen times already. And where is everyone else? Well I can't tell you that. I can only tell you they aren't online.

Allegedly I studied all day, but mostly I was on myspace, and although I did finish all the term readings, I feel as if I got nothing done. Because I was on myspace. Honestly what is the use of a day off from work is this is what you will do with it? I'm leaving now, to shower and go to bed.

But first I have to check my myspace.

Speaking of excess: coffee much? I'm sorry for the rant. You can now resume your regularly scheduled lives

...darts in threes...

I'm frustrated by the news reports covering the jury decision that Moussaoui should not receive the death penalty but should spend the rest of his life in prison for his role in the September 11 attacks.

From the AP: "It was the sixth case in a row since the death penalty was restored in 1976 in which federal prosecutors failed to obtain an execution in this courthouse, all the more striking this time because the Pentagon is just kilometres away."

This essentially makes it seem as if the point of the legal proceedings was to gain an execution, not prosecute a crime. As if they failed the public by not finding an occasion to shed retaliatory blood. The death penalty is the ideal that they were meant to reach, and they did not achieve it.

Everyone who knows me well knows my stance on capital punishment, that it is illegitimate as punishment and contrary to human rights. I know that since it is considered legitimate in American criminal law, there wasn't likely to be any normative challenge to it by participants in this case. At the same time, I was surprised that one of the reasons given for the decision against the death penalty was that to execute him would fulfil his dream of martyrdom through execution. I was glad that the verdict was what it was, but I am still bothered at the motivation behind it; the "nananananana" approach to sentencing.

...overheard in Starbucks...

Girl 1 is talking to Girl 2, and a classmate listening nearby interjects.

Girl 1: This is an A and B conversation.. so C your way out.

Bahahahaha. When did high school kids in Thornhill get so darn clever?

Tuesday, May 02, 2006

...big government: a tragedy in three movements...

i) May was supposed to be exciting for me, a combination of Census Excitement and Employee Survey. When I was little all I wanted to do was fill out the little forms that fell out of new magazines. For some reason I was obsessed even then with making my presence known, filling in my name and address in block-letters, black/blue ink. I never sent it in, but at 5 that was hardly the point. The census, in my mind, was going to be something similar. My love-hate relationship with adulthood rears it's ugly head at this point: it turns out that I was a little fuzzy on what "The Census" actually is, this is my first one after all. Naive Me imagined something like a retail-comment questionnaire: what do you think of us? what can we do to improve your opinion? how was your service today?

It isn't. Anything like that. It's a number crunching tool on falsely cheery yellow paper. The yellow may have been the biggest betrayal. My heart hurts. What happened to accountable government? What about democracy!

ii) Harper is the anti-christ. The per-child allowance in his budget is geared towards high-income families, meaning that the families with incomes higher than $106,000 AND one parent stay-at-home would get close to the promised $1,200. Everyone else gets increasingly less as the incomes go down. Because the families with the most money... need to get the most back from the government. Right wing sucks butt.

iii) Earlier was watching the funeral of Bob Hunter on City TV. This broke my heart, as a longtime fan of everything City. I used to watch him every day in his silly bathrobe, reading the day's big highlights. He succumbed to cancer, and he will be missed. Part of his eulogy was given by Dalton McGuinty, our stalwart premier. My respect for him increases by day - between that beautiful speech, this week's $3mil. to an anti-gun program developed by faith leaders, and his jaunty smile, he makes me rather happy. Now if he would only deliver on some of those tiny things he promised... autism treatment past age 6, stopping development on the Morraine, health care reform...

...a love story!...

She was maybe in her 80's, he in his 83's. She wore a salmon coat with loafers; his fedora was off-tilted. They stood quietly at the crosswalk, mumbling about the drug store being closed. She was not amused, but he looked pleasant in the sun. His wrinkled, yellowed hand shot out faster than you'd have expected; pinched her behind. She turned, shocked, livid, and then she realized the joke. He kissed her forehead.

Monday, May 01, 2006

...if ever i needed a reason...

It's official - I have a centipede infestation. I have seen half a dozen in the last week, and let me tell you these are not things you want to see on a regular basis. People with spiders think they have it bad. Not even. Any insect big enough to catch you in your peripheral vision, scurrying across the floor, is not something you want around. And they move like a son of a bitch!

We're on battle mode. I just called my dad to come over and take my beloved inside tree out into the yard. We took everything off the floor, and for the next hour I am patrolling the edges of the walls, inside closets and cabinets, in the breaker box, the furnace room, the kitchen, the bathroom and the cedar closet. Everything will be doused in crawling insect killing powder.

I always tell people how bad this is and they don't believe me. Centipede. Google images. Look it up. I swear I never had this problem when I was in the condo. They may be fast, but climbing to the 27th floor is beyond them. We need to get back there.

...infinite regress...

There's a rumour and I don't know if it has been substantiated yet, but it's shooting across the blogosphere like wildfire. That Ramin Jahanbegloo, a former University of Toronto visiting professor and a brilliant remarkable man, has been arrested in Iran, and missing for several days.

I'm not going to expound on this at the moment, because at this point it is still a rumour. But I have the memory of Zahra Kazemi fresh-loud again and if it is the case that he has been imprisoned, and Canada does not do everything it can to get him back safe, I will be writing on TIG and vocal.

There was an article in a major newspaper months past about Canada's treatment of it's people abroad, and how different it is from the US. Canada was not treated very well in that article, but not unfairly in retrospect. They owe this situation the utmost care and action, not vague consular promises.

...can i go nowhere too...

It's official, I have lost all eloquence and abillity to write. Not for lack of things to say either. Between my 12-year old cousin's first crushing breakup which is still having reverberations; the second-grader who got her period in my class today; the complete apathy to my exam on Friday and other incapacitating distractions, I could write a book. But I'm not.

I'm telling all to Steph though, funny enough I can still talk to her, light years away as she is. June cannot come fast enough. I'm tired of people leaving - it'll be good to have one of them come back for a change!