The end of yet another glorious year

This time 'round, I had decided not to make any New Year's Resolutions. I figured I am turning 50 (50! 5-0! Five zero!) in 2011 and that is traumatic enough. Why add pressure?

But then I started thinking about all the things I'd like to improve about myself. So I will ponder my deficiencies and probably have a list tomorrow morning.

To those Down Under: Happy New Year! Stay away from the flood zone.

Movie Review

I saw the original True Grit at the Border Drive-In when I was 8 or 9 years old. I loved John Wayne, and the rest is history.

I think the new True Grit is terrific. Jeff Bridges is great. It seemed to me that he was doing a John Wayne tribute. Not a parody, but an homage, if that is the right word.

But the best thing about the movie is the dialogue. If you like the way people spoke during The Civil War, you'll love the talkin' in this movie. I'd see it again just to listen to their vocabularies. Nobody talks like that anymore and it is our loss.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO JAW FAN

Hope your birthday is better than your Christmas!

Nanuk, the Gamer is Born?

I'm back from the Holy City. I had a very nice Christmas. There's almost no snow in TO. That alone was great.

My niece got an iPad for Christmas. She was furious at her boyfriend for spending too much money on her, so for a part of Christmas Day she wasn't talking to him. Ha Ha. So what did he do? He showed me how to play Angry Birds. This is the greatest game ever.

I am now completely hooked on Angry Birds. My sister said if I buy an iPad just to play a game, I am officially crazy. I'm not sure if I will go that far. But that game is unbelievably addictive. Later, during the evening, when my niece had somewhat gotten over her anger with the bf, she showed me how to play Plants and Zombies. Another great game.

Is 2011 going to be the Year of Nanuk the Gamer? Stay tuned.

Happy Holidays!

MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL, and especially to JAW Fan whose cheesy company is treating him like a slave.

A little relief

I needed a mental health break tonight, so I went to see The Fighter. I went with BGTSmoothie.

Mr. Smoothie has stalled in his dieting, but he is still going to the gym. He looks a bit slimmer.

At one point in the movie, we get a long loving shot of Mark Wahlberg's exquisitely muscled back.

Me: When your back looks like that, let me know.
BGTS: When my back looks like that I won't be at a movie with a 49-year-old woman.

Ok. I deserved that.

As far as the rest of the movie goes, this has to be one of the most obnoxious families ever put on film. The Greek chorus of big-haired sisters was worth my price of admission. Christian Bale is unrecognizable and amazing. Superb. And Melissa Leo, who I have liked since Homicide days, is also superb. If it wasn't for his perfect back, Mark Wahlberg would be totally invisible compared to his two co-stars. Thumbs up for all.

Work is not setting me free

I sent an email to my boss complaining that the "system" she had set up, a mere 3 months ago, for processing work appears to have fallen apart. I asked her to provide written procedures explaining how things should work. Rather than respond in writing, she came to my office and said "There is no system. Everything is broken".

She didn't answer any of the questions in my email. And after our little talk she left. So that's it. There is no system. Everything is broken.

Tell me why I should continue to give a shit. I want to care. I just can't.

LottoMax this Friday: $50 million.

Work people

I really need several months away from these people.

Christmas break is not going to cut it.

*Sighs a massive sigh*

*Sick* Day

We are entitled to 7 sick days per calendar year, and here I was yesterday, looking at the calendar, mid-December, and still 1 sick day unclaimed.

So I am home today.....and, irony, I have a slight head cold. It won't stop me from doing the requred puttering and chores, but still, what a bummer to have a cold on my *sick* day.

Bah Humbug

I am feeling very Grinchy (or Scroogey) about Christmas cards this year. Why have they become a Big Bother? I don't know. But I've decided I'm only sending cards to my old aunts this year. So if you are a loyal reader of this esteemed blog, and have gotten Christmas cards from me in the past, don't expect one this year....unless you are my aunt.

And if you are one of my aunts, and you are reading this blog, how come you never told me you read my blog? Or even own a computer?

Waterworks!

Did anyone see 60 Minutes last night? They did a profile of John Boehner, the new US Speaker of the House.

Is there anything that doesn't make that man cry like a baby. It was very bizarre.

"The sky is an especially lovely shade of blue today"
Boehner: WAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!

This is not much of an exaggeration.

More Snow

My helper is not amused.

The Blackie in Winter

Stop taking pictures and let me in the house, already!

C'est L'Hiver

This country is for the birds. Looks like we will have about 20 cm total snowfall by the end of our first storm of the season.

I took the metro last night and when I got to my station there were ZERO buses headed west. Nary a one. Fortunately I was properly dressed so I started trudging along and got to Grand Blvd. when a bus pulled up. I boarded the can along with the rest of the sardines. Then the bus driver had the nerve, the temerity, to say I had not swiped my card, which I had, but obviously he couldn't tell which arm it was that poked through the crowd to do the swiping. In my sweetest voice, I said that yes, indeed, I had swiped my card and proceeded to swipe again. Of course, the card was invalid because it had JUST BEEN SWIPED 10 seconds earlier. But the driver said Ok. I smiled but inside I thought "You, sir, are a giant asshole for being a nazi about card swiping on a brutal night like this".

I shoveled snow for 30 minutes last night before bed, and another 15 minutes this morning, just to clear the path to the sidewalk again.

In jolly news, it appears that Crazy Polish Neighbour is away or ill (let's hope the latter) because this morning it was Crazy Polish Wife who was shovelling, which she never does. Being civilized and not as crazy as her crazy husband, she does not dump their snow on my property. So I was happy to see her out there.

And Blackie the cat is spending the day in the mudroom because where can he go? I put him outside but the sidewalk had not been cleared yet so he had no way to run home or to any other shelter without pouncing through snow that is taller than him. So I let him back in the house, and left him some water and a bowl of dry food.

This is not good

I just read something about a biopic of the Clash and who should play Joe Strummer.

This raises the following questions:

Clash biopic?
Why?
Who decided this was a good idea?

Christmastime is Here

Time for fat felines to sleep near the tannenbaum.

Note to MsMushrooms

Is your email down? I sent you two messages yesterday and I've got back two delayed delivery notifications....?

P.U.! ARGH! BLECH!

It is only December 3, and already I have been subjected to Wonderful Christmastime, the worst song in the universe.

It makes me gag.

How I hate it. Paul McCartney should be sent to Guantanamo for that piece of crap.

Gawd, I hate it.

Time to relax

My boss is in a seminar for two days. Ah!

I hope she takes a break and eats something and avoids slipping into a diabetic coma. There appear to be ample coffee breaks, etc., so she should be okay.

Now I get to coast (even more than usual). Ah!, I repeat.

He's a 10, she's a 4

I saw the not very good Jake Gyllenhaal/Miss Ann Hathaway romantic comedy (?) last night. There's too much going on in it. It's trying to be three movies at once, so it's a mish mash of stuff.

Positive: Lots of nude Gyllenhaal
Negative: Not nearly enough Oliver Platt (fully clothed, thankfully)

Oliver Platt is always a supporting player and there's never enough of him in anything. Alas.

Did I mention lots of nude Gyllenhaal?

Anyway...I think Miss Ann Hathaway is a really unattractive young woman. Her face is all lopsided, like Julia Roberts, but even worse. I mentioned this to BGTSmoothie and now I am in the Smoothie doghouse. Apparently she has a "hot Jewish girl look". Well, how would I know that? I said that Gyllenhaal is a perfect ten, and she unfortunately is a four. Then I had to listen to Smoothie's incredulous "a four??? a four???" for the rest of the evening.

RIP Lt. Frank Drebin

Leslie Nielsen died. I liked him. Well, who didn't, eh?

Movember

The month of November is almost over and I realize I have not yet blogged about Movember and moustaches. I hate moustaches. I've always hated them.

So when a young man of my acquaintance informed me early in the month that he was growing a "mo", my heart sank. I feared it and loathed it in advance. He sent me an early picture, and I thought oh gawd No.

But then...we met up...and, boy do I hate to admit this, but I kinda liked it. It was part 70s porno, part Village People, part Oakland A's circa 1973, but...I liked it.

Now at month-end, the thing is looking Gay Biker Beyond Belief. And yet, I remain strangely drawn to it. But surely this is temporary insanity. Come December 1, and the good lord willing, the stache will be gone, and I will regain my senses.

Work will make you free, Part 2

I don’t understand people. I really don’t.

My boss, She Who Will Not Retire, is diabetic. She takes 4 insulin shots per day.

We all now have a Crazy Big Boss who is a head case. Basically CBB works 24/7 and expects everyone else to do the same. Last night my boss, SWWNR, worked until 1:00 a.m. This was not planned or expected, but CBB kept a few people on a conference call for 2 hours. Conveniently, CBB was working from the comfort of her home, while my boss and two other managers were stuck here.

So my diabetic boss missed supper, missed her insulin shot at supper and did not get her bed time shot until hours later than usual. She had some kind of meal replacement during the evening. That was it. When I asked her why she could not excuse herself to come to her office and get her shot, she explained that she does not want CBB to know she quote has a disease unquote. She does not want to use her diabetes as an “excuse”.

I couldn’t help myself. I said, well, CBB is going to know when you collapse on the floor! Her response: if I collapsed, CBB would just want to know when I would wake up and be working again.

Even our middle manager does not know. My boss does not want any higher level managers to know. If that was me, I would excuse myself for supper just because I am an angry, angry bitch if I have to work when I’m hungry. Give me 15 minutes to grab something and I will keep going…and I don’t even have diabetes. But don’t ask me to work without food…not to mention a pee break!

This morning, she told me her sugars should’ve been at 8 and they were 22. Go ahead, fuckin’ kill yourself for your job. This kind of self-sacrificing is insane to me….especially since she is able to take early retirement TODAY if she wants to.

Canadians Love Their Weather!

Courtesy of MsMushrooms: here are the current temps in Edmonton. Look closely. Yes, that is MINUS 30.

Hoarder No More?

Despite being under the weather over the weekend, I went on a decluttering frenzy.

My old t.v. and two non-functioning VCRs ended up at the curb, as well as a green trash bag full of stuff. Another bag went to the local charity, and my recycling box was packed full of old magazines.

I am so great.

See? As soon as I decide I will PAY someone else to haul away my junk, I suddenly am motivated to do it myself. Money talks.

It's World Toilet Day

November 19, a day close to my heart. I wish I was in Japan where they really know their toilets. But, alas, I am not.

In fact, I am home sick, but only occasionally visiting my friend, the toilet.

Happy Toilet Day to one and all.

Eureka Moment

As I sat at my desk, fantasizing about my escape which will not happen, I had a light-bulb moment about my decluttering problem.

I have decided that as a Xmas present to myself I am hiring the Got Junk people to come and haul away my stuff. I won't do it myself, so it is time to have someone else do it.

Laziness is the primary reason I have done nothing. Hauling it to the road, etc., is just too much trouble.

I've finally reached the point where I am ready to get rid of a lot of stuff. So in early December, probably the 4th or 5th, I will be getting rid of tons of stuff. I'm already giddy at the prospect.

Must escape!

Must...get...away...from...these....people. Must...find...new...job.

Help! Oink Oink

I need a new diet. Anybody have any suggestion?

I cannot face going back to WW and being told that I can survive, without being hungry, on 23 points per day. No, I cannot. 23 points is my breakfast and lunch....what about the rest of the day? (Yes, I know this is precisely why I'm fat.)

I need some new form of inspiration!

You'd think I'd be inspired by BGTSmoothie who told me last week he'd finally restarted his WW point counting and had lost 7 pounds in the first week. Well, good for you, fat boy! (See, this here is my attitude problem coming out.) He's counting points and got a personal trainer at the Con U gym because he is a Con U alum. Is this true? Can we do this?

I'm going to be 50 effing years old in less than 4 months. I don't want Oldest Age Ever to coincide with Fattest Weight Ever.

In Mob News

Boy, the mob hits are really ratcheting up in Montreal this year. Fortunately, this latest one was not in my neighbourhood. A sniper's bullet through the living room window is pretty dramatic stuff.

On the news last night, they mentioned how the Rizzuto family wiped out the Controni family to take over. How nostalgic to hear that name. Ah, the Contronis, the mobsters of my youth!

But who is now wiping out the Rizzutos? That is the question.

What did Ray Liotta call this: "real Sicilian greaseball stuff"? Maybe I'm paraphrasing incorrectly...

Work will make you free

Two work-related items to report on.

1) JAW Fan has informed me that he will be working on Christmas Eve. This not solely during the day of Dec. 24, but Christmas Eve itself, i.e. the evening hours when Santa is packing his sleigh, JAW Fan will be at work. Nice, eh? In case it is not clear, he did not volunteer for this mission. He is also working Christmas Day. But he has Boxing Day off, so at least he can shop for sales!

2) There is a new manager in my organization. He is not my manager, thankfully. He has informed his staff, who are numerous, that the hierarchy of his department is not being respected, and from now on, superiors must be addressed as "Mr." or "Mrs." This has been met with incredulity and mirth. That's Mr. Asshole to you, underling.

Afterthought to JAW Fan: Don't they have any Jewish, Muslim or Hindu employees they could ask to hold the fort for 2 days? You know, non-Christmas-celebrating people. I mean, gawd, even our Cairo office closes on Dec. 25.

Aging, we're all aging!

Yesterday I had a chat with a colleague I have known for 17 years. It had been a while since we'd spoken face to face for more than 30 seconds. Man, is he getting old! I just kept thinking, yikes! He's 45. How did this happen? He used to be so handsome. Now he's...gulp...ordinary?

Just now, I went to see our company nurse to get my flu shot. As we were talking, I thought, gawd, she's so wrinkled. I think she's a bit younger than me. It's an epidemic of aging! This is all very scary.

(Aside) My flu shot arm is feeling wonky.

Nanuk
Observer of Aging and Obit Enthusiast.

W

I watched 3 minutes of George Bush on The National last night and it was more than enough.

I do not miss that man. I cannot get over how oblivious he remains to everything he did wrong. Good riddance.

Now, on the blogs, I keep reading about how his mother kept her miscarried fetus in a jar and showed it to George when he was a teenager. In most cases, I would feel sorry for a kid who had such a deranged parent, but in George's case, I have to say I still hate him. No excuses. But it's no wonder he became a drunk.

His mother is even nuttier than I thought. I mean, who does that?

Diplomatic cry babies

I am avidly watching the diplomatic spat between our great nation and the United Arab Emirates. As of today Canadians will need a visa to visit the UAE. Why is this funny to me?

My friend, the purring Persian, is from the UAE. This summer he got his Canadian citizenship and a Canadian passport. The main advantage of the Canadian passport? He will get to travel most everywhere without needing a visa.

So today I said: what's the deal? If you want to visit your parents using your Canadian passport, will you now need a visa? What if he is a suspicious character? He is not amused.

Friday afternoon sex blogging

Two controversial oddities on the Internet this week caught my attention. One was our old gay friend Stephen Fry getting into all kinds of hot water for saying that women don’t like sex as much as men do. Lots of people went nuts over that statement.

He has been so misquoted and paraphrased that I can’t even remember what he really said. All I think is that he is a great English eccentric and he’s only getting battier as he ages. By the time he is 60, he will be totally bonkers. So carry on, Stephen. I think his argument is that liking sex means you have to be lurking in public parks and bathrooms just waiting for some stranger to hump because you just can’t help it. And since women don’t do that, they don’t like sex as much as men do. I suspect this was a joke. Maybe it just wasn’t a very funny one.

The other hubbub was caused by a female columnist writing in Marie-Claire that the idea of fat people getting amorous on t.v. grossed her out. She was talking about that new sitcom where the two obese leads meet at an Overeaters Anonymous meeting and start a relationship. I haven’t seen the show, but it sounds pretty typically American to me. (And Canadian, for that matter.) It’s t.v., if you don’t like what you see, change the channel. Anyway, there were over 3000 comments on the M-C site last time I checked. The writer’s apology just dug herself deeper. I guess it is very good for blog hits.

Who needs t.v.? If I want to watch two fat people getting it on, I can invite BGTSmoothie over and set up a mirror. HA. That IS a joke. That will NOT be happening.

Canada, the boring

I watched the national news last night. At least 15 minutes were devoted to potash.

Potash!

It's good to live in a place where potash is the top story. No car bombings for us. I love this country.

Except for...those two idiots in Ontario who went to the Legion Halloween party in blackface and KKK costumes. Every country has to have a few of those and we are no exception. Morons.

The snack bar at Caesar's Palace

The perfect combination of opulence and goofiness.

A Wrench in my Master Plan

Loyal readers will remember that I have a Master Plan to take over my boss's job upon her retirement.

During my absence last week there were 2 URGENT meetings about the restructuring of our bureau. Turns out that while my boss currently supervises 6 people, as of January she will supervise 17 people. 17! And they will be working in 6 different languages. And no talk of an upgrade for her job.

Do I still want to go there? Or should I be content to be one of the 17?

Back from Sin City

Weird City is more like it. What a strange, strange place Las Vegas is. The hotels are everything I'd imagined they'd be. Yes, everything is Over The Top. Many, many old fat white people. Riding scooters.


No, I didn't end up playing blackjack. It was a $15 minimum bet. $15! Anyone who knows me knows I don't risk $15 on one shot. I did end up losing about $45 on slots over the course of the trip. But that's 4 days worth of slot machine fun at the equivalent of 3 losing blackjack hands. I even played slots at the airport. Every airport should have slot machines in the depature area. They sure make the time pass quickly.


Two photos to begin. This is Barry Manilow's Copacabana jacket on display in the lobby of the Paris hotel, where he was the headliner. And the other pic IS the lobby of the Paris hotel. It's a reproduction of fuckin' Versailles, for gawd's sake. Unreal.

Half-packed

I'm halfway through packing. That's pretty good for 7:00 p.m.

I'm starting to relax. Yay!

I shall be back on-line on Sunday. Will I have gambling exploits to regale you with? Probably not.

Haven't packed, must pack

I went "up north" with the girls for the weekend, and now I'm home. I need to pack for Vega$ as I am leaving very early Tuesday, and I'm working tomorrow.

Am I packing? No, I'm blogging instead. I am in a state of pre-trip inertia. I hate it when this happens.

Shouldn't I at least have the energy to put my passport, ticket and American $$$ on the table? Oh look! a distraction....(avoids packing)

This week in dead pornographers

Who would've believed that Hef would outlive Guccione? Does anyone care? And is Hef actually still alive or is that some kind of creepy silk-pyjama'ed hologram we occasionally see, scaring us on our teevees?

Anyway. What to say about Guccione? He made a LOT of money because people like porn a LOT. Then technology evolved and porn became free and he went broke. The End.

Long cats

I've seen two news stories about a cat in the USA who has been officially declared "the world's longest cat". He is, apparently, one and a half centimeters longer than the former world's longest cat. This is measured from tip of nose to tip of tail.

How does one even get a cat to lie still long enough to measure accurately.

If you are looking for me this evening, I'll be home with a tape measure, and safety goggles and oven mitts, trying to measure cats. I suspect I may own the world's roundest cat.

Is "world's longest cat" the new "world's oldest man"? Will we be informed each time one dies?

Appropriate response required?

I've received an email from Fancy Feast asking "how are things going with you"?

I don't know what to respond. This is our first communication since the Thanksgiving Day Near Massacre.

Ms Mushrooms interprets this email as actually saying "are you still mad at me?" and I believe this interpretation is correct. I am. But at the same time, I don't want to reject him to the point where I never get the $60 he owes me. LOL.

So what to answer? I don't want to say eff off because I know $60 is no big deal, but as FF himself said, it's the principle of the thing. I want my $60 and an apology. Which I won't get if I tell him to drop dead.

You know what's great? If this is the biggest problem I face all week, my life is pretty darn easy these days. And, that, I appreciate.

The creepiest of the creeps

I watched the news last night. Of course, the Williams trial was the top story. Since he pleaded guilty to all charges, I'm not sure what is served by displaying his deviant behaviour to the whole world. Public shaming, I guess. There must be some medieval need that is met by a good old public shaming.

This being said, what an effing creep. I wanted to take a shower after seeing just two of the cropped photos. For every one like him that gets caught, how many others are out there?

At the same time, I could not help but think that in frat houses across Canada, dozens of young guys immediately knew what they are going to dress up as for Halloween. Expect to see lots of hulking guys in teenage girls' underwear at a university near you.

Apparently only a fraction of the people whose homes were broken into reported the theft to the police. I don't understand that. If I came home from work, and all my underwear was gone, you better believe I'd be calling the cops pronto.

The other thing I don't get. Where did he find the time to commit all these crimes? It makes you wonder. The next time you're trying to phone a friend all evening and there's no answer, just think of what that friend could be up to. And did his wife never ask where he was? I know they lived apart but still there would be hours upon hours when he was not reachable and wasn't at work either. Am I overly suspicious or are most people not suspicious enough? If I don't see Blackie for a day, I'm worried. And he doesn't even have the thumbs to try on my underwear in secret.

Mad Men Finale

Didn't do my mid-term tonight because I HAD to watch the finale.

I guess Roger will have his fatal heart attack next season when he realizes Joan is still pregnant. Ha Ha, say I.

Roger had the best line when Don announced his engagement to Megan, the girl from Montreal "Who the hell is that?"

Overdoing it

I'm annoyed at my Con U Cont Ed professor. I am taking an on-line management class to brush up on management jargon and to have some up-to-date training on my HR file.

We were given the mid-term this weekend. It is a freakin' nightmare. There are 6 questions, and for two of them, it is written "limit your answer to 2 pages". Wha? I was thinking of limiting my WHOLE exam to 2 pages. But, no, apparently this guy is expecting Management War & Peace.

Buddy! please! It's a Continuing Ed class not a Ph.D. What is wrong with this guy?

I've got to have it finished by Thursday. It's going to be a grumpy week. :(

Where's Blackie?

Hey kids, can you spot the black cat among the many, many fallen leaves that the owner of the property is too lazy to rake today?

Those rescued miners

I saw the last of the rescued miners come out of the ground last night. It was a wonderful moment.

But I have two comments:

1) The President of Chile is a windbag. My gawd, man, shut up. The head miner has been down there for over two months. You think he wants to spend his first moments above ground listening to you drone on and on. STFU, hombre.

2) The Chilean national anthem is endless. It's kinda like the Chilean President. It never ended.

If I had been trapped in a hole for two months, what is the first thing I might've wanted to do upon rescue? Not sing O Canada. I would be more like that one who asked his wife: How's the dog? But I might've said: I need chips.

The Gap

I don't shop at the Gap, but I saw that they unveiled a new logo last week. This change in logo apparently caused millions of people to get the vapours, start fanning themselves frantically and go into a collective tizzy. So the company scrapped the new logo.

I guess I am in the minority because I really liked the new logo. I liked it a lot.

Does that make me a contrarian or an avant-gardiste? Does anyone care?

Whee! again

We just had a lunch-time reception for staff.

Two glasses of white wine later, I'm drunk at my desk again. Fun!

The Sinking Ship

You may ask yourself...just how badly run is Nanuk's place of employment?

Our department will soon have a new boss. This would be my boss's boss, and therefore also the boss of us wee underlings.

The new boss's name was posted on the internal website for the whole organization. This man's wife also works here. She saw her husband's name on the website and called him. Nobody in HR had contacted him to tell him he had the job. Which means he had not officially accepted it. So now we don't know if he is really the new boss or whether he turned it down. Frankly, would you want to leave a secure job elsewhere to come to a place that runs like this?

D'Oh!

My Bizarro Thanksgiving

Where do I begin? Thanksgiving dinner with Fancy Feast didn't happen. Why? He slept through it. I phoned him three times during the day to say I'm coming to pick you up. And he never responded. I was beyond furious. Then after 5:00 he emails to say he just got up and never heard the phone and he now feels quote like a giant turd unquote. I understand that he's working double shifts and is exhausted, but jeezus.

A long phone call ensued. He has now promised: 1) full financial reimbursement of my expenses for the wasted day ($60) this includes $20 for the red wine he requested (and which I opened and actually it is pretty good, so I will enjoy the remainder of the bottle over the course of the weekend); 2) the preparation and serving of a gourmet meal by him for me including dessert; 3) some other special thing that he will think of. Any wagers on whether any of this comes true? Let us not hold our collective breath.


Meanwhile, mid-afternoon, when I was in full enraged ranting mode against Fancy Feast, I get a phone call from Smoothie. I was very upset; he was trying to calm me down. Later, there is a knock on the door and a lady is standing there holding a beautiful bouquet of flowers. See photo below. With a note from Smoothie that says Happy Thanksgiving.

So, the crazy Egyptian ruins my Thanksgiving and the crazy Jew salvages it. That's one point for Zionism.

Other consolation prize: enough leftovers for 2 days of hot turkey sandwiches...mmm.

Update II

Oh noes. Apparently the blimpy photo strategy was a failure. The Leprechaun wrote back and considered this photo exchange a "positive experience". Good lord. Now what? Suggestions?

In Thanksgiving prep news, Fancy Feast has requested ice wine with our meal. I mean, really. He can't just ask for a chablis or a burgundy like anyone else would, but no, ice wine. Sheesh.
His nickname is the most appropriate of any I have come up with. To quote Goodfellas* "You're a piece of work, my friend".

*Actually it may be from Reservoir Dogs.

Update

I did not hear back from Mr. Shawn the Leprechaun so I am guessing that my cunning plan of using the blimpish photo worked. Heh heh.

But who cares about that because JAW Fan and I agree that the biggest news of this week was in the world of marketing. Sun Chips will no longer be sold in the deafening crinkly biodegradable bags. It will soon be safe to buy Sun Chips again. Their bags will longer be a threat to your aural health.

Romantic Male Box: Self Esteem Edition

Over the weekend, after the afternoon of video games with Smoothie, I decided I had had enough of (literally) fun and games, and maybe it was time to look into meeting a fellow close to my own age. So on Sunday I responded to two Craigslist ads, one from a man 50 years old and one from a man 49 years old.

The 50-year-old responded right away. Italian, divorced with 4 kids. 4 kids! He sent me a photo of himself with his 25-year-old son. The son looked really yummy, but I digress.... I sent my photo and....he never responded. Once again, a stranger was there to remind me that I am not, in true fact, Angelina Jolie. When I informed Smoothie of this exchange, he was angry and said "You need to write back and tell him what a fuckin' douchebag he is". But I didn't. Why bother.

The 49-year-old guy seems quite sharp and nice. Divorced, with one son. At least that is a reasonable number of children. After a few emails, I suggested we exchange pictures to get that out of the way quickly. Why waste time?

Oddly enough, he was reluctant. If his first reply he said he would send one and added: "If you should suddenly go incommunicado after that, like someone who has fallen off the face of the planet, I'll take the hint." And I thought I was insecure!

In the follow-up email he did indeed attach a couple of photos and said: "If I don't hear back, then message received loud and clear." Is that sad or what? Is he playing the pity card? I asked Smoothie what he thought. His words of wisdom: "He's just like me. His self esteem is in the toilet. He knows you're not going to answer."

So, what did he look like? Let us say he is a hybrid of two celebrities: Wallace Shawn and the Lucky Charms leprechaun.

Which is not my type. At all.

At this stage in my life, do I have the right to judge? I'm not sure. But not being a heartless beeoitch I sent my photo in return (a particularly blimpish photo), with a non-commital comment. Smoothie says this was a terrible idea because any response with a photo is a positive response, and if I am not interested I should've just ended it and not give the guy any hope. But I don't like to be mean. Should I have not answered? Or simply said sorry, I'm not interested as you will always be after me Lucky Charms? (What I am really hoping is that he'll take one look at my picture and think "I can do so much better than her" and that will end it. Please reject me, Mr. Shawn the Leprechaun.)

This dating shit is hard. I think I will stick to playing Command & Conquer with Smoothie and arguing about fingerling potatoes with Fancy Feast. Better the devils I know.

More Roth

Faithful readers of this blog will recall that a couple of months ago I read a late novel by Philip Roth and wasn't too impressed. Yesterday, at the Con U used book sale, I picked up Portnoy's Complaint. So now I will read some early Roth.

I'm expecting it to amuse me in a Rachel Papers kind of way, i.e. a young man's book about a young man, with all the superoveractive hormones that suggests.

We shall see.

Countdown to Crazy Thanksgiving

In a moment of insanity, I decided to invite Fancy Feast to my place for a traditional Thanksgiving dinner next weekend. He was delighted, to say the least, because he is not from a traditional "Canadian" culture (i.e. he was born in Egypt) so he has never been invited for a real Thanksgiving before.

His first question: What's the smallest turkey we can get?
Answer: We're not getting a turkey for two people. If we did we would be eating leftovers and turkey soup until Xmas. We are getting a turkey breast and a turkey leg so we have enough white and dark meat for us both without excessive leftovers.

This seemed to satisfy him.

Next question: Can we have fingerling potatoes?

Excuse me?

He wants fingerling potatoes. If we cook them with the meat, they will absorb turkey juices and will be delicious, he states. No need for mashed potatoes, he says.

At this point, I turned the cooking of the whole meal over to him. Why fight it? Resistance is futile. So, I'm buying everything and he is in charge of the kitchen. I'll just drink wine while he works.

Stay tuned for further details.

He's Moving In

I finally caved in and got a litter box for the Black Cat. It is in the mud room.

I could not stand to think of him sleeping outside now that the cold nights are here, and the stubborn little fellah won't go home, so what could I, Miss Softee, do? The mud room is not insulated so it's not paradise, but he sleeps curled up in one of my mother's old coats and now has a litter box, so it's pretty well official: I have 4 cats. That's two into the Crazy Cat Lady Zone.

He doesn't stay in there all day, however. Once he has been served his breakfast, he's out the door. He is an outdoorsman after all.

*sigh*

More Real Estate Doings

I went to another Open House today. It was about 6 blocks away and it was a house exactly like my shack.

And, boy! was it shacky.

Now I know what the market expects for $359,000. A run-down 60-year-old, unrenovated house. It's ridiculous.

I'm waiting to see if there is an Open House soon for the split-level on Champlain that has the pool, the bike path, and the hot male nurses. Yes, I've decided they do exist.

Did not command, but conquered!

Yesterday I did something I had never done before. I went to an internet cafe and played video war games.

Yes.

I was not good at it. I went because BGTSmoothie asked me to. So I agreed. These games require speed and hand and eye coordination. I have none of these abilities. BGTSmoothie's comments were mainly "Dude, you're too slow" and "Dude, you're going to die".

Yes, he calls me Dude. More than once he pulled the mouse from my hand in a panic "Dude! You're being attacked!" With a lot of assistance from him, well, more like him taking over large parts of the game, I did manage to defeat the Easy Army twice. I was China. And I was victorious.

In Real Estate News

Last Sunday I went to an Open House around the corner from my place. It was a lower duplex which included a separate basement apartment for rental income. As it was renovated, and not grungy and yucky like my place, I immediately fell in luv. Asking price: $429,000. For a lower duplex!! C'est unbelievable.

I told the agent if I could clear $300,000 for my current place, I would think about this lovely lower. He said "if you want $300,000 I can sell your place this afternoon". Which got me to thinking. I'd love to dump my shack, but I don't want to pay over $400,000 for anything.

I've spent more than a few hours looking at listings, and you know what you can get in Montreal in the $350-360 range? My current crappy house. Seriously. There are 4 rundown babies like mine currently listed and they range from $350 to $399. The market remains insanely overpriced.

$360 can get me a pretty funky place in Lasalle, but that means buying a car because the location is not great. Do I want a car? Not at this point.

The real estate agent has called me twice so far this week. he has two potential buyers for my house, i.e. my house that is not even on the market. Location really is everything. I called him back and said "I'd love to sell but there's nowhere to move to" so I guess I'm out of the market for now.

But that lower duplex around the corner is still calling to me...and my potential tenant is out there. Fancy Feast has already asked if he can move in with me to save on rent. Heh. Maybe not.

RIP Stoney Curtis

The first time I saw Tony Curtis was not in a movie, but in a t.v. show called The Persuaders. Does anyone remember this show besides me? I loved it. I was 10 at the time.

Reading his obit this morning, I realized how many of his movies I'd seen. Didn't remember that I was that big a fan. My favourite quote is from a movie I didn't even see. Don't know the title but the quote is "Yonder lies da castle of my fadder".

I've decided to take a sick day in his honour. Actually I decided last night to take today off sick, but only now have I found it appropriate to take it in Tony's honour.

This week's Mad Men

When did Pete become a good guy? I think he is wrong for covering for Don. Really. At this stage, what does he owe Don? Nuthin'. Don is getting scummier, even if "love" redeems him, which I think it won't, judging from the way he stared at his (and my favourite) secretary. I can understand why Betty would lie for Don, her kids don't need their father in jail. But Pete?

What did I love this week? That a couple goes to a doctor about an unplanned pregnancy and the doctor give the MAN shit about his irresponsibility. I was not expecting that. I enjoyed that curveball.

Joan has class. Roger is and will always be a lovesick fool.

And just when you think they can't introduce a character who is an even nastier bastard, here comes Lane's father. I predict Lane comes to his senses in London and has to get rid of the chocolate bunny. But maybe not. Maybe New York is Lane's paradise and he's coming back a free man.

Tuesday is Diet Day

I officially started my Weight Watchers diet today. But, of course, I'm Miss Frugal so I am not paying them to attend meetings. I'm following the plan and paying myself for my efforts. hah.

I've just taken 20 minutes to eat my "snack", which is an orange. My tummy is grumbling. I am unhappy.

At least this morning, the funace cleaning guy showed up at 8:30 on the nose (see my complaints of September 15 in this regard).

BGTSmoothie (who is now fudging on his decision to start WW this morning, by the way) (fudging, ha ha, he's fat!) used to work for Sears where he was on the phone scheduling funace cleaning, vent cleaning, drape cleaning, etc. And he said that once an appointment has been screwed by the the company, there was a star next to the client's name that meant "we f**ked up once, don't f**k up again". I guess the furnace people had a star next to my name today because the guy didn't f**k up.

BGTSmoothie has had at least 30 jobs, so no matter what place you name, he says: I worked there. Even the venerable food co, Kraft. It is weird. He's been everywhere, man, he's been everywhere.

Saturday eat, Tuesday diet

Here is everything BGTSmoothie ate on Saturday: Wendy’s, plus popcorn plus a pogo (which he said today was undercooked) plus raisin glossettes.

We just had lunch and he told me he is starting Weight Watchers tomorrow. I was excited and told him we should go to the meetings together to be WW buddies. But he says he’s going to do it on his own because he’s been before and has all the books and gadgets. So he does not want to pay to go to meetings. Too bad.

He used to go with his mother and his sister. He said he liked the social aspect of it. I can imagine. He talks to everybody about everything, so just imagine the three of them at WW. He says there’s not much point going to the meetings because there aren’t any younger women at them. I told him my niece was only about 21 when she went, so he is wrong about that. What a family he's got, everybody in therapy and everybody at WW.

He had a Chinese dish at the food court but it had shrimp in it, which he doesn’t eat for Jewish reasons, so I got all the shrimp. Yay.

Tomorrow the diets begin...

Life is weird, death can be weirder

The guy who owns the company that makes Segways died falling off a cliff on a Segway.

Let the jokes begin.

It still beats dying at your desk, and I'm sure Roger Sterling would agree with me. At least this guy was outside on a country road.

My Weird Night

Last night I went to the Dollar Cinema which is wrongly named since the cost of admission is $2.26, but it was part of group thing and in fact was free for me, so who am I to complain.

The movie was quite good. Michael Douglas in A Solitary Man playing a mega-a**hole. Not a stretch. The weirdness was after the movie.

I was with BGTSmoothie, and he went to the bathroom. This is in a mall. So while waiting for him, I checked out the window in this Spa place. They had a lot of before-and-after photos of treatment, such as spotted liver-spot hands before/cleared-up hands after, etc. One of the photos was of a very pale older woman's face with a lot of brown spots before and clear skin after. There's nobody else in the hall of this part of the mall as I am waiting. Then this woman comes walking up to me. She has a Scandinavian/Dutch type accent. She says: "Look at this. I show you something." And she points at the pictures of the pale older woman. "She is dead! They use a dead woman! Why? Why? She is dead!" and she walks away.

Ten seconds after this Twin Peaks moment, BGTSmoothie emerges and I say lookit this picture. Now (as Ms Mushrooms may confirm) BGTSmoothie is a blabbermouth who will debate any subject with anybody. But was he there when I needed him? I wanted to see a face-off between him and crazy Swedish/Dutch lady. But no. What a moment lost.

So we start to leave and we pass by a bar that is pretty empty. But there are a couple of people waiting. It is clear they are friends of a waitress who is closing up. We stop because BGTSmoothie wants to buy raisin glossettes out of one of those 25-cent machines. (Aside: He eats a lot. A Lot. No wonder he is fat.)

He is getting his glossettes and I am waiting. And the waitress turns around and yells, YELLS, to her friend, "when you called, I was wiping my ass". The friend looks at me horrified, but I start to laugh, cover my mouth and walk away. BGTSmoothie joins me. The friend says to the waitress "those people heard you".

As we leave. BGTSmoothie says "This place is so sketchy". We walk ten paces... "Hey, there's a Pizza Hut!"

Fin

Mad Men, Dead Woman

Oh Miss Blankenship, I knew you couldn't be around forever. I will miss you.

You know, despite his total piggishness and misanthropy, Roger has always been one of my favourite characters. But only in this episode did I discover that we share an important fear: that of dying at the office.

I've often thought that croaking at my desk would be one of the most silly, ironic ways to go. I don't like to work, so to think that my final breath would be taken at my desk fills me with dread. It's not the death itself, it's the location!

I'm so with Roger on this one.

Summary of my week

Ever have one of those weeks where it feels like nothing happened? This was the case for me, apparently. I'm trying to think if anything happened, other than receiving the sad, eventful email from my old friend (and everybody's favourite Xmas letter writer) in Toronto.

Monday: Worked. Watched House. It was rather lame. Watched Hoarders. It was good in that the people on the show remain far messier than me and that is a good, good thing.

Tuesday: Worked. Went to gym. Watched Biggest Loser. It was good in that the people on the show remain far fatter than me and that is a good, good thing.

Wednesday: Worked. Visited a friend who broke her ankle. Highlight: she knocked over the white wine bottle with her wheelchair. Fortunately it was 2/3 empty at the time. Ate brownies (still remain not as fat as the contestants on the Biggest Loser).

Thursday. Worked. Went out for dinner with the girls from work. Ate. Ate. Drank a bit. (still remain not quite as fat as the contestants on the Biggest Loser but I seem to be gaining on them)

Today: Working. Watching Mad Men finally. Reading Mad Men blogs. Feed cats. Sleep.

Yep. It's been that kinda week. On the bright side, my car did not get broken into by crackheads.

Life in the Big City

I went to the Holy City over the weekend. I visited my niece's new apartment which is incredibly downtown. This is the kind of location that one dreams of in one's 20s and is horrified by in one's late 40s.

She is across the street from the Harbourfront (i.e. tourists!) and in 10 minutes you can walk to the Air Canada Centre where the Leafs are about to embark on another hapless, losing season. The amazing thing about Toronto is that the Sports section of the paper is all Leafs...as if they had a hope in hell of achieving something. Which they never do. And yet it's all Leafs.

The apt is also about 15 minutes walk from the CN Tower, skydome, etc. etc., i.e. everything.

Coolest thing is, we walked to the new theatre (I forget the name) that opened for the Toronto Film Festival. It is a super artsy complexe, like ExCentris here, and I saw a real live Oscar. I'd never seen one before. It was in a glass case in the lobby. It was the Foreign Language Oscar for Barbarian Invasions. Neat. My sis and I gazed upon it, while my niece could not care less.

Upstairs there were some film clips put together by Atom Egoyan and they were projected on bedsheets. My niece didn't know who he was. I said, of course, you do and was about to name his movies when she interrupted me, saying "You know I don't watch any intelligent movies!" End of Egoyan conversation. *sigh*

Life is frustrating

Why do people who do service calls, i.e. cable or in my case this morning, furnace cleaning, assume that the customer has nothing to do with her life than sit around and wait for them?

I had made an appointment for the furnace guy to come between 8:30 and 9:00. Even if he arrived at 9:00, he would be done by 9:30 and I could be at work by 10:30. Which is the time I had given my boss as my late arrival today.

At 9:40, no technician, I called the company and cancelled. At 9:44 when I had my jacket on and my house key in my hand, the truck pulls up. The funace guy explains that he had 3 emergency calls this morning where people's furnaces did not start and those calls get priority of cleaning calls. Goody for them.

I said: you're too late. I have to go to work. He repeated that it was September and furnaces are being started up for the first time, and he had to do 3 of them this morning. Whoopee, I thought. I repeated: well, it's too late. I have a boss who is waiting for me.

I mean. Really.

This week's Mad Men

Good riddance Joey, you narcissistic little fuck. May your whole gang follow you out the door. Your pal, Stan, can shoot his mouth off all he wants, but Peggy proved long ago that he is a pussy.

Peggy rules!

Joan, darling, I love you but it's time for you to update your wardrobe and enter the 1960's. You don't want to be the next Miss Blankenship, as wonderful as Miss B is. You don't want to become her.

The Unicorns

The mythical beasts known as my Crazy Polish Neighbours have returned from vacation.

Having not seen them during her visit, Ms Mushrooms is requesting photographic evidence of their existence.

Sorry, but I won't waste even one frame of digital camera memory on those a-holes. You just have to take my word for it. They are real. grrrr.

Pre-Vega$ prep

I got my hair cut today. My hairdresser is a serious, serious gambler. I told him I was going to Vegas next month. He asked me what I planned to play. I said blackjack because everybody says it's easy. He was appalled. He says blackjack is very tricky...if you want to win. He didn't have anyone scheduled after me, so he taught me blackjack for 1/2 hour.

He says I need 4 more hours training, and then I can go to Vegas and win. And not make a fool of myself by looking like an amateur.

Thus begins my beautiful career in casino gambling...

This week's Mad Men

Roger and Miss Blankenship???

I am not a big fan of flashbacks, but dammit, that is one I demand to see.

Ms Mushrooms walks the city

It is sooo frickin' hot. And we are walking about town. Sweating, sweating, sweating.

Ms Mushrooms is taking lots o' photos.

Now we are watching the third news report on "porn-weightless-mustache" aka Canadian astronaut Chris Hadfield.

He looks like shit for age 51. I guess that is what weightlessness and an ugly porny mustache do to a man. And a blue jumpsuit. How I hate him.

M-Day minus one

Ms Mushrooms lands in Montreal tomorrow. In the middle of what is probably the last heat wave of the summer. One cannot escape this in Montreal.

How do I tell her that people no longer smoke in bank lines and Steinberg's hasn't existed in at least 15 years. Okay, she already knows these things in theory, but her Montreal nostalgia may be in for heart-wrenching reality check when she witnesses non-smoking bank lines with her own eyes.

And the Seville theatre. The dilapidated, abandoned building is now being turned into condos? Better than the eyesore it has been for years. But Cinema V is still abandoned. Woe is us.

to be continued...

Spectacular day for a B-Day

What a gorgeous Sunday morning. I have been sitting out back with my coffee enjoying the company of Blackie, who sought out a shady spot beneath my lawn chair. What a perfect day to end the month of August, and gulp, the summer? Nooo.

Happy Birthday wishes are in order for Mr. BJB, our resident pornography researcher.

In the land of the old people (i.e. our current reality)

Yesterday I gave up my seat on the bus to a very obese woman who walked with a cane. I mentioned this to Mr. Anon who commented that it is better than having a seat offered.

I suppose that is the only way to look at it. It is better to feel one can still give up one's seat than to be offered the same seat by a young-un.

So why am I still depressed? Oh yeah, I'm still middled-aged, that's why.

She's Worse than Hitler

Since I have been remiss on commenting on current events, let me say a word about that stupid woman in the UK who tossed the cat in the garbage bin and was caught on camera.

She is stupid and cruel. I am glad she was caught. She deserves public shunning.

That's it. I don't want her dead. I don't believe it is correct to send death threats. She should not have to be guarded by police. She's an idiot. And now everyone in the world knows she is an idiot. She's not Joe Stalin. That's enough for me.

I am enjoying that people are complaining to her employer. That amuses me. Especially since her employer is a bank that is already hated by the public for getting bail-out money. Heh heh.

But she does not have to die for her crime. She is hated around the world. Good enough for me. Now if it turns out she has done this before and kitty cats have died because of it, well, then to jail with her. Of course, she will now be blamed for every cat in her neighbourhood that has ever disappeared in the history of cats. So be it.

Miss Blankenship returns!

Great Mad Men this week.

Peggy on that Honda. So coooool. Loved that.

And poor Sally. I think everyone knew she would eventually end up at a shrink, but I thought it would be when she was a young adult, not at age 10. I can't think of a character that I feel more sorry for. Well, she's a twisted pervert. (Thanks to Grandpa Gene.) What else can be done? She must be rehabilitated.

Modern Technology at the Movies

There was a guy two rows ahead of us last night who kept pulling out his blackberry and texting during the movie. This drove BGTSmoothie up the wall. I was glad to see his reaction, given that he is of the younger generation and not a old fart like me.

"What's he texting about? That he's at the movies? Then watch the movie instead of texting about it!" he ranted afterwards. I was glad to hear it.

One sentence movie review

Could've used A LOT more Christopher Lloyd.

Movie Review Preview

JAW Fan has kindly provided an advance review of Piranha 3D (note corrected spelling). I shall provide updates/commentary as seen fit tomorrow.

Reasons to see Piranha 3D:

Watching stupid spring breakers get mutilated and terrorized…(creative and gory deaths – my favorite: hair -that’s all I can say without giving it away.
Christopher Lloyd winner for best exaggerated delivery of a line this year (hand motions and all).
The scene with the opera duet from Lakmé.
Goofy uses of 3D (no examples to be given). (Editor's note: Isn't it all BOOBS?)
The giant penis.
Cause it never takes itself seriously.

Smoothie Love

So much for keeping BGTSmoothie at arm's length for a week. We had pizza last night, he paid. He always insists on paying. He seems to get some kind of allowance from his mother, so what the heck, I'll dine on Mama Smoothie's dime.

I also got a nice little gift. Earlier we had been discussing artisanal stuff, like handmade soap, etc., and I said I would never pay $50 for a bar of soap. That is insanity. So he shows up with an expensive bar of Portuguese soap for me. I looked up the company on the interet, its sells on line for about 10 Euros. About $20? Anyway. It's nice. I'm assuming it doesn't mean I smell bad. And he didn't pay retail for it. His family never pays retail for anything.

Being of Israeli descent (ahem) he talks alot about what things cost and how expensive everything is. He complained about the price of the pizza, even though I had originally told him I would pay, but no, he insisted...and then said $16 for that pizza was ridiculous. Well, I liked it. So there.

Anyway, we discussed this whole never-pay-retail thing, and if he talks about it he's being colourfully stereotypical, but if I say he's being cheap, I'm an anti-Semite. It's like being with Larry David Jr. Also, he claims to be an atheist (he's reading Hitchens at the moment) but won't mix meat and cheese, which I assume is a Jewish thing, so what is that? Makes no sense.

On Tuesday he has invited me to see Pirhana 3D. Normally I'd laugh at the suggestion of seeing a gorey, bloody, silly horror movie, but of couse, he's paying, so I said yes. He's in love!

Vega$

Our flights are booked, and sis and I are off to Vegas on October 26.

This is an early 50th B-day present for me.

Point me to the Liberace museum.

We'll be staying at the Flamingo.

The Divine Miss B

I've finally watched this week's Mad Men.

Two words: Miss Blankenship. Wow, she is so my kind of character. (And she's JAW Fan's kind of character, though he has not seen her.) Oh, she's everybody kind of character.

I'm praying they keep her on for a few episodes, but I think she will be too much of a comic distraction, so they probably won't.

And what can I say about Megan, the receptionist. She's amazing. She is definitely the kind of girl you'd make a detour just to get a glimpse of. Vive Megan and her French mother who doesn't use soap.

On the serious side: It was good to see somebody just flat out call Don Draper a drunk. I was cheering for Allison through this whole episode.

One other thing: at the beginning when the unattractive secretary puts herself in the same category as Joan saying "we're old and married, they don't want us", the look on Joan's face was perfection. She should win an Emmy just for that icy gaze alone. Awesome.

Bad News for Baldwin Fans

I've had to temporarily give BGTS the heave-ho. He was getting obsessive and it was starting to creep me out.

Really, nobody NEEDS to see me twice a day. Not even the felines care that much.

So I've imposed a one-week time-out. If he bugs me during this time, he's a goner. If he keeps it under control, it's Hello Alec Baldwin next time he (i.e. the Alec) is in town.

Gadzooks! I forgot

Silly me. With all the kissin' and stuff, I forgot the MOST important fact about BGTS.

His mother owns a couple of antique shops in town, and guess who has been to them on more than one occasion?

....(DRAMATIC PAUSE).....

Alec Baldwin.

So through BGTS's mom, to BGTS, to me, places JAW Fan less than six degrees of separation from his ultimate fantasy man's wang.

Let's all smoke a cigarette after that news, shall we? Ah!

Behold!.....Tis Nanuk!

I had lunch with Blueberry-Green Tea Smoothie (BGTS) yesterday, and I met him again after work.

Smitten, I tells ya.

Over lunch, he held my hand and told me how "beautiful" I am. (Don't laugh. I'm not joking. This really happened.) And walking to the door at Place Bonaventure afterwards, he stopped me for The Big Kiss.

My primary thought: Where were men like you when I was 22?

After work, we were walking through Central Station in a quiet corridor and, again, The Big Kiss move. I heard someone walking towards us and I started pushing him away. He's rather bigger than me, like a cuddly bear (think: Not So Gentle Ben). You can picture my little arms flailing, right? And I am saying "We're in public!!!!" and he says, about the approaching woman, "She's some stranger we'll never see again". True, she was. But that wasn't the point.

So much for platonic

I've received two emails from Mr. Blueberry-Green Tea Smoothie, the jewish atheist, asking me how I feel about him.

He's smitten.

I'm baffled.

(If I get anything similar from Mr. Mango-Banana Smoothie, I shall truly be in a pickle.)

Platonic Male Box: A couple of smoothies

I haven't had many updates in the ole romantic male box lately, but I had platonic dates this weekend, and got 2 smoothies out of the deal. I feel guilty when gentlemen insist on buying my smoothies because I know I make more money than the two of them put together, but chivalry is not dead, and thus I am treated to smoothies.

At Coffee Depot I had a green tea-blueberry smoothie than tasted neither of blueberry nor green tea, so I was not impressed. But I met this odd fellow. Now if someone is of Israeli extraction and does not believe in god, does that make him an atheist jew or a jewish atheist? Point to ponder. Anyway, he is a movie buff so we have other things to discuss.

At Baskin-Robbins I had a mango banana smoothie that fulfilled all my smoothie expectations. So B-R wins the smoothie competition by a long shot. My date is of an extraction I didn't really know existed. A Protestant from India, or an Indian Protestant, if you will. Odd combo, but we didn't talk much about that. Mainly he needs to know where to eat cheap in Montreal, and how to dress for winter, as this coming one will be his first. I said: Good luck, you have no idea what you are in for.

They are both nice guys and I'd see them both again. For cheap eats, I'm guessing.

This week's Mad Men

Oh, Don Draper. You are such a bad influence, leading Lane into debauchery AND Gamera! They're not homosexuals, they're divorced! I loved that line. Which was followed by the worst Dylan wanna-be they could ever find. Awesome.

Now is it me, or is Don making nice with his secretary? Even flirting a bit? Be careful Miss Secretary. He's a heartbreaker (and probably has a social disease).

I can't wait for Joan's husband, the rapist, to go to Vietnam and die. He better.

And no Roger this week. I haz a sad. :(

A Quiet Week?

Looks like not much will be happening this week. No medical appointments, no vet appointments, and no JAW Fan comments, as he is on vacation, in the countryside, no doubt participating in a week-long, chip-tasting orgy.

Some people have all the fun.

The New Me

Another pretty decent night on the slipknot machine. It looks like I might get used to it pretty quick. Tonight, pre-work with all the anxiety that Monday morning induces, will be the real test.

Now that I am super alert, I have embarked on a little exercise program that my sister started recently. The exercises are called slow burn. They are aptly named. Simple exercise like crunches and arm raises, but done to a super slow count.

I have just finished. My legs are shaking, my arms are quivering. It took half an hour, and I'm sure the pain will last for a lot longer than that, particularly tomorrow and the day after.

Some success

(I decided to remove my creepy Slipknot photo. It was too disturbing even for me.)

In sleep deprivation news, positive development. I had no problem with the gadget last night. Although I did not sleep a full night without waking up, I did endure the apparatus for 7 hours and woke up only twice.

I realllly want this to work, so I'm happy today. But am I energized and ready to hop and zip about the day? No. The action words "hop" and "zip" do not yet apply to me.

She wore Blue Velvet...

I'm not Dennis Hopper, and this is just pure air, no nitrous oxide. It's still freakin' creepy, tho.

Wish me luck.

Chip Time with JAW Fan

Last weekend, I attended what can only be described as a chip orgy…bowls and bowls of chips lovingly decorated the table (OK, three bowls)…nonetheless, the wang-o-meter was vacillating like it had never done before…up, down, sideways…at times, it was impossible to get an accurate reading.

In the first bowl, Doritos Late-Night Jalapeño Poppers. You’ve heard the song “Feeling Hot, Hot, Hot”, well these orange triangles of fire could have been the inspiration to that island tune…but sadly, they left a bad taste in my mouth and left me “Feeling Sick, Sick, Sick”. These Poppers did not produce any fireworks in the ol’ underpants, not even when covered in the creamy deliciousness of a T. Marzetti dill dip. My advice: stay clear of these devil dongs.

Next up was President’s Choice Smokin’ Stampede…another variation of the barbecue flavour. Although nothing to get your lariat in a twitter over, as a snack food treat, they were tasty, tangy, and totally tempting. Yes, the rodeo in my pants had the wang-o-meter sporting a proud 8 inches. And that ain’t no bull!

The highlight of the night, however, was a specialty chip that a gamblin’-lovin’ chickster-of-a-friend picked up at a European deli. The brand name: Blair’s Death Rain. The flavour: Cheddar…The result: a hot n’ spicy cheese delight. Needless to say, the brand name alone scores a magnificent 10 inches on the wang-o-meter…the chips themselves a slightly smaller 9 inches…still, without a doubt, the big winner in the Harry Reemes Potato School for the Uninhibited.

Not Nice Mad Man

I am caught up on the first two episodes of Mad Men, Season 4. And what can I say? Don Draper, shame, shame, shame on you. You are not a nice man at all.

More, please.

Monday morning heh heh

First thing at work every morning is to check the spam folder of my email. Most of it is truly spam but occasionally an actual email for me goes astray. Most often, and for no reason we can determine, these are from Mr. Anon. Anyway.

Most of the spam is about fake Rolex watches and penis enlargement pills (also fake, I'd venture to guess). The messages are generic, but this one made me laugh out loud today: "Make your wife be proud of you. Ladies won't laugh at your long tower anymore".

Long tower? Sorry, I'm laughing.

Happy Friendship Day to all my friends

Did you know today is Friendship Day? Neither did I.

The first Sunday in August. Apparently it is big in India. This I learned today from a new Craiglist "friend" who is originally from India.

Last Sunday was Guru Purnima, which is the Hindu festival day for teachers. Those party hearty Indians have got a celebration day for everything.

Also...

One other "possible" solution to the apnea problem proposed by the doctor. He said it might help my breathing if I lost "a lot of weight".

Note that he did not suggest "a little", "a bit" or "some" weight. He said "a lot".

I went home and ate chips.

Trying to get some zzzzzz

I had my follow-up appointment re my disturbed sleep patterns, and boy were the results lousy. So beginning next week, I shall be sporting one of these lovely devices at night.

How will I keep the boys away? So hot!

The doctor said I never go into a deep sleep and therefore I am "chronically sleep deprived". Apparently if a person's oxygen level goes below 89% at night, it is cause for concern and treatment, and mine went down to 80%. I'm practically dead already! At my worst, I stop breathing 30 times per hour. Why haven't I had a stroke yet??? I've been dragging my ass around for so long, I don't even know what it feels like not to be exhausted all the time.

So let's see if this baby does any good. Even with insurance, it's going to cost me close to $1000, so this sucka betta gimme some results.