Doing a Half-Assed Blog

Yeah, I meant to regularly post some stuff here for my own amusement, but I rarely get around to it. Not like many people are going to be reading it but it's a discipline, you know? And that is something I am very much lacking in!

Hmmm, what have I been doing these past couple of months? Chasing boys. Catching one. Watching movies. Cleaning my apartment. Playing with my stereo (planning on getting a turntable in the new year). Quilting. Knitting. Being depressed. The usual. Well, except the chasing boys part.

Colour Names You Won't Find at Your Local Paint Store

Whoops I Forgot That Milk at the Back of the Fridge Last Month Green

You've Got to Listen to This!

I'm sure I've heard "Mexican Radio" a zillion times and just thought it was some cute novelty song...then I heard this version of Johnny Cash's "Ring of Fire", and I became hooked on Wall of Voodoo! Click on the link to listen!

William Ware Theiss at the Beauty Counter

I'd been aware at some level that this product existed, but never actually stumbled across it 'til I was in Shoppers buying a toothbrush today. Special tape to, you know, tape your clothes to your skin to avoid gaping, slipping, etc. I'm sure more than a few of us have already used this trick but let's face it, if you're wearing something you have to tape on, you're probably not exactly modestly dressed to begin with.

Just Because You're Not That Into Me Doesn't Mean We Can't Fool Around, Right?

Actually, no, that isn't what that means.

Just a public service announcement, hope it helps somebody out sometime.

Finished reading Drowning Ruth, an Oprah Book Club Selection. I swore I would stay away from those things but the book sounded pretty good, and it was okay, I guess. The whole premise, though, hinges on what one woman does just after giving birth, and honey, I don't know anyone that would be capable of THAT.

I need a serious dose of reality. Maybe it's time for some more Philip K. Dick.

It Feels Like December 6

I found about the yesterday's shootings in Montreal when I walked into a store that had CBC Newsworld on. I just stood and stared at it, feeling sick. Put the words "Montreal", "school" and "shootings" together and you just bring back memories of December 6, 1989, and fourteen women murdered for being women. You bring back the fear that it could happen to me. I was a couple of years away from attending university at the time, and while I'm not an engineer, I was in engineering courses and buildings with engineering students and profs. Just throw in some crazy guy with a gun and crappy grades, and....people I know have bullets in them. Maybe myself as well.

I heard last year that a lot of university-aged women didn't know about the women killed at L'ecole Polytech; shocking, because for older women, the date is enough to bring a chill, a look of fear, a twist to the stomach.

Yesterday's shootings seem to be more a Columbine/Taber/(insert your favourite case of a horribly maladjusted, bullied individual here) thing. Somehow, I don't know, they don't hit me as hard. Like somebody coming in and shooting up their workplace. Bad if you're there, but you work with really nice people who don't have guns, right?

Back in Black

...which is of course, covered in cat hair.

Pretty good summer, I guess. I've been going to my parents' as often as I can, trying to help them out as my dad is getting so frail. I painted the living room (including ceiling) and started working on the trim. Doing other stuff to help out, which is hard because they both think of me as a child. I was telling my sister about the guy that came up to my apartment and threatened me last year (somehow came up in conversation) and told her not to tell my dad. She said, "Yeah, if he heard that he'd come and get you and drag you home." And that, boys and girls, is why I live 100 miles away from my parents.


My brother and his wife have a new little boy, Patrick, very small and dark compared to his brother. Here is is wrapped un in the quilt his favourite aunt (me) made for him. I rarely get a picture of my projects before I give them away because I'm always finishing them at the last minute. I finished sewing on the binding at my parents' the day before I gave him the quilt. It's really difficult to feel bad about that kind of thing because my sister brought the cross-stitch birth announcement she was making for him and finished it there too. You can't escape genetics!

I read a hell of a lot in July. Have to come up with a list or something. I just read and read, trying to ignore the heat, but I broke down and bought an air conditioner. I've only had it on once or twice. People say to me, you don't pay for hydro so why not? Sometimes I feel like a sucker for doing what I can to cut down on energy use, but really I don't understand why others don't do more. It's so easy, but so many people are concerned with themselves and not society as a whole. I'm reading John Ralston Saul's The Unconscious Civilization and he goes in to that a little. Individuals get so wrapped up in themselves that they ignore the fact they are part of an entire society, and essentially become passive consumers.

Hmmm....maybe I shouldn't be sitting here just blogging about myself!

Now I Have Enough Books

Riiiiiiiiiiiiight.

I'm coming up on 1500 books. A lot of them, I haven't read. Yet. I fully intend to. Honest. I look around my apartment and try to figure out where I can squeeze a few more volumes. I don't have any space to put more bookcases. What could I get rid of? Nothing! I've cut so much out already. I can't really afford to move to a larger apartment. I spend all my money on books. I like being surrounded by them. It's soothing, safe. Libraries have always been a place of refuge for me, a placed where I excelled and it didn't matter that I was otherwise bullied or abused and incredibly shy and withdrawn. Books are an escape route.

I pointed out an article in a decorating magazine to a friend that explained how the books were hidden in the featured home to avoid the dreaded library look. He said, "What's wrong with it looking like you live in a library?"

I seem to have a book addiction. I'm trying to save money, have an uncluttered home, but I can't seem to avoid aquiring more books. Today I bought one of Thomas Merton's journals at Value Village. I started reading it so I wouldn't have the guilt of just adding it to the unread masses on the shelves. It's kind of funny actually. He whines about being forced to write books. Oh that must be so terrible. I do like his work, the little phrases here and there that make me go, "Yes! That's it exactly!"

My book pusher friend dropped off a few volumes. I sent some back with her, including one I insisted she read, The Namesake by Jhumpa Lahiri.

I have to figure out how to get rid of some books. That's always been hard for me. I'm afraid I'll never be able to find a copy again if I want to read it. Some books seem to vanish without a trace because there are so many of them out there. Oh well. I'm okay now, I should just relax in the moment, enjoy being surrounded by these riches, not worry about what the future may hold.

To recap, I am about a third of the way through Swann's Way. I love it, but it is very rich and so must be savored in small doses. I've started The Sign of Jonah by Thomas Merton, which is easy to dip into because it is short journal entries. I also have a book out of the library, Masterworks of Modern Art from MOMA. Also easy to dip into, to study a piece and read the accompanying text. It is beautifully well written. I find that art books frequently use too much jargon and say boring, irrelevant things about the the art, but the text here is beautiful, clear, full of joy.

Feeling a teeny bit depressed. I'd like something soft and comforting to wrap my mind around. Good night to rent a movie, if I could be bothered. I've been thinking of reaching for an Alexander McCall Smith novel I know is sitting on the shelf because it won't involve a lot of brain power, and will be pleasant, happy, relaxing. Maybe a soak in the tub while reading? Welcome to my full, rich life.

Not a Tuna Day

I've gotten in the habit (rut?) of making tuna sandwiches every day for lunch. I'm sure I'll get tired of them soon, but for now, I can't be bothered thinking of anything else to make.

I am being encouraged by my cat Ginger. This lucky little boy gets the water squeezed out of the tuna can every morning. He meets me in the kitchen, rubs against my legs, purrs, waits for me to put his bowl on the floor. Gypsy is not allowed to have any tuna water because she has a delicate tummy and always, always barfs it up within minutes. She has even given up racing to the kitchen when she hears the can opener at work because I gently shove her away and pick up the bowl when she gets too close. In the beginning I even locked her in the bathroom until Ginger and I were done in the kitchen.

Unfortunately cats aren't real big on calendars, so Ginger doesn't know when it's the weekend and there will be no bowl of tuna water for him. He's so hopeful when I head into the kitchen and I feel bad for not giving him anything.

Today is another break in the routine. The Apple store in Kitchener is having a sale today, so I have to go to that
And poor Ginger! No tuna water! But if he's disappointed, it doesn't really show through his little kitty coma.