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.
Friday, July 30, 2010
Thursday, July 29, 2010
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.
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
For once...
Miss Procrastinator decided not to procrastinate.
Since I had no lunch plans, I went to Customer Service at Berri and got a new bus pass.
I can't wait to sleep better tonight without bus pass anxiety. (JAW Fan understands.)
Since I had no lunch plans, I went to Customer Service at Berri and got a new bus pass.
I can't wait to sleep better tonight without bus pass anxiety. (JAW Fan understands.)
Hit me on the bus
Two things about public transit. One: I hate my bus/Metro pass. Or more precisely, I hate the scanning boxes on buses. They don't work. Yesterday I took the bus 4 times, and my pass worked twice.
At least the drivers are cool about it. There are so many defective passes (or boxes) that most drivers just wave me through if the pass won't scan. It always scans on the Metro, but on the bus? Forget it.
Again this morning, the thing wouldn't scan. Each driver has his or her own method for getting the pass to scan. This morning's driver bent the card slightly and whipped the part with the chip in it over the machine and voila. After me, person after person got on and nobody had a problem, even people whose cards are inside their wallets. They just plopped their whole wallet on the box and it scanned. But mine? No. It needs a little bend and whoosh over the box. I'm sick of it.
Two: There's a guy who takes the bus in the morning who plays his music on his headphones way too loud. He's not a teenager. He's a paunchy, 40-something guy, maybe Latin American or Philippino, and he blasts his heavy metal so you can hear it 5 or 6 seats away from him.
So this morning, Ms. Bossy Boots, another bus character is on the bus. She is a 40-something engineer who always wheels her computer around on a luggage thing, and often asks people if they will switch places with her so she can be in a seat that accommodates her luggage. She is a freakin' pain in the ass.
So Ms Bossy Boots sits two seats away from Senor Heavy Metal, and immediately leans overs and asks him to turn his music down because she can hear it. Of course, he can't hear her, so he takes his ear buds out and she repeats, she asks (for a change) doesn't order him, to turn his music down. He says he'll play it as loud as he wants, and puts his ear buds back in. So she HITS him. She smacks him on the arm. And he ignores her. He wins!
The best part of this is that there was another woman seated between the two of them. There was no way she was getting involved in this, so she just sat there with a really amused look on her face. And we all listened to second-hand heavy metal all the way downtown.
Fin.
At least the drivers are cool about it. There are so many defective passes (or boxes) that most drivers just wave me through if the pass won't scan. It always scans on the Metro, but on the bus? Forget it.
Again this morning, the thing wouldn't scan. Each driver has his or her own method for getting the pass to scan. This morning's driver bent the card slightly and whipped the part with the chip in it over the machine and voila. After me, person after person got on and nobody had a problem, even people whose cards are inside their wallets. They just plopped their whole wallet on the box and it scanned. But mine? No. It needs a little bend and whoosh over the box. I'm sick of it.
Two: There's a guy who takes the bus in the morning who plays his music on his headphones way too loud. He's not a teenager. He's a paunchy, 40-something guy, maybe Latin American or Philippino, and he blasts his heavy metal so you can hear it 5 or 6 seats away from him.
So this morning, Ms. Bossy Boots, another bus character is on the bus. She is a 40-something engineer who always wheels her computer around on a luggage thing, and often asks people if they will switch places with her so she can be in a seat that accommodates her luggage. She is a freakin' pain in the ass.
So Ms Bossy Boots sits two seats away from Senor Heavy Metal, and immediately leans overs and asks him to turn his music down because she can hear it. Of course, he can't hear her, so he takes his ear buds out and she repeats, she asks (for a change) doesn't order him, to turn his music down. He says he'll play it as loud as he wants, and puts his ear buds back in. So she HITS him. She smacks him on the arm. And he ignores her. He wins!
The best part of this is that there was another woman seated between the two of them. There was no way she was getting involved in this, so she just sat there with a really amused look on her face. And we all listened to second-hand heavy metal all the way downtown.
Fin.
Sunday, July 25, 2010
He's no David Lee
Last weekend (was it only last weekend? It feels like a month ago), at the used book sale in the big tent, I picked up a novel by Philip Roth, on the recommendation of a couple of males of my acquaintance. You know who you are.
So I dug in on that very night. And it was good. For about 100 pages it was really good.
So here's my problem. In the first excellent part of the book, topical 90's stuff happens. But in the second part, Roth reveals that one of the main characters has a Big Secret. And he tells us what the Big Secret is. Once I had been given all the background of the Big Secret, I started to lose interest in the book.
Then, Roth, or more precisely the narrator, tells us that two of the main characters are now dead, and they are going to die soon in the narrative. I think at this point I am supposed to keep reading to find out how and why they die. But truth is, I don't care. How did this happen? Why have I stopped caring? It's weird, and I can't explain it.
This afternoon I struggled through a long set piece about a deranged Vietnam Veteran's therapy session at a Chinese restaurant. Since I care about this character even less than the main ones, I ended up skipping the last two pages of this part.
And the main female character is totally unbelievable. I cannot for a minute believe a woman like this exists. And, even though Roth repeatedly describes her as pretty physically unattractive, gaunt, weather-beaten, stringy-haired, etc., he still needs to point out her Surprisingly Big Boobs.
Oh, Phil, you're such a guy. Get over the big boobs, already.
I'm going to try to finish the book, but unless I can get back to caring about somebody, anybody, in it, it will be tough going.
So I dug in on that very night. And it was good. For about 100 pages it was really good.
So here's my problem. In the first excellent part of the book, topical 90's stuff happens. But in the second part, Roth reveals that one of the main characters has a Big Secret. And he tells us what the Big Secret is. Once I had been given all the background of the Big Secret, I started to lose interest in the book.
Then, Roth, or more precisely the narrator, tells us that two of the main characters are now dead, and they are going to die soon in the narrative. I think at this point I am supposed to keep reading to find out how and why they die. But truth is, I don't care. How did this happen? Why have I stopped caring? It's weird, and I can't explain it.
This afternoon I struggled through a long set piece about a deranged Vietnam Veteran's therapy session at a Chinese restaurant. Since I care about this character even less than the main ones, I ended up skipping the last two pages of this part.
And the main female character is totally unbelievable. I cannot for a minute believe a woman like this exists. And, even though Roth repeatedly describes her as pretty physically unattractive, gaunt, weather-beaten, stringy-haired, etc., he still needs to point out her Surprisingly Big Boobs.
Oh, Phil, you're such a guy. Get over the big boobs, already.
I'm going to try to finish the book, but unless I can get back to caring about somebody, anybody, in it, it will be tough going.
Saturday, July 24, 2010
Random Saturday thoughts
I am tired of not winning the lottery.
This morning I stopped into a nearby bagel shop that is supposed to be transformed into a bagel/Indian food take-out this month. Not much Indian yet, but I did buy a couple of vegetable samosas that were quite edible. The owner is very friendly, and when I asked him when the re-opening was going to be, he talked and talked. And I couldn't understand a thing he was saying. Well, maybe every fourth word. So I think the opening is now 5 August and he will be serving Indian breakfasts which involve some kind of omelet. From what I could tell, it sounded good. But mainly I smiled a lot and was totally lost.
I bought a blender and have been searching the web reading endless smoothy recipes, especially vegetables smoothies. I am going to be incredibly healthy in no time. If I watch my intake of soon-to-be-locally-available Indian take-out, that is. Face it, I can't win.
This morning I stopped into a nearby bagel shop that is supposed to be transformed into a bagel/Indian food take-out this month. Not much Indian yet, but I did buy a couple of vegetable samosas that were quite edible. The owner is very friendly, and when I asked him when the re-opening was going to be, he talked and talked. And I couldn't understand a thing he was saying. Well, maybe every fourth word. So I think the opening is now 5 August and he will be serving Indian breakfasts which involve some kind of omelet. From what I could tell, it sounded good. But mainly I smiled a lot and was totally lost.
I bought a blender and have been searching the web reading endless smoothy recipes, especially vegetables smoothies. I am going to be incredibly healthy in no time. If I watch my intake of soon-to-be-locally-available Indian take-out, that is. Face it, I can't win.
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
It's contagious
Went out for a bite with a couple of the girls last night. They asked me what I had done on the weekend, and I mentioned that I went to Knowlton Nash Fest and then found myself talking in rather alarming detail about the life of the local pornographer who was the subject of the "talk".
It appears I retained so much knowledge about the fellow, I may not need to read the book, unless of course it has lots of interesting details about the menage-a-trois (rivieres). Then I might have to read it. We'll see.
For example: I said that the pornographer in question had been hospitalized at the Royal Vic for tuberculosis, and my friend said that didn't make sense because in those days when people got TB, they sent them to sanatoriums up north. And I said, well, he did get TB again, and he convalesced in Ste. Agathe. And at that very moment I realized I had retained too much info. My little brain does not have room for such facts. There are too many other important things I need to remember, like my home address, and the fact that .215 constitutes the Mendoza line, this being a fact I discussed with my GP at my last appointment (don't ask). This paragraph is turning into streamofconsciousness.
It appears I retained so much knowledge about the fellow, I may not need to read the book, unless of course it has lots of interesting details about the menage-a-trois (rivieres). Then I might have to read it. We'll see.
For example: I said that the pornographer in question had been hospitalized at the Royal Vic for tuberculosis, and my friend said that didn't make sense because in those days when people got TB, they sent them to sanatoriums up north. And I said, well, he did get TB again, and he convalesced in Ste. Agathe. And at that very moment I realized I had retained too much info. My little brain does not have room for such facts. There are too many other important things I need to remember, like my home address, and the fact that .215 constitutes the Mendoza line, this being a fact I discussed with my GP at my last appointment (don't ask). This paragraph is turning into streamofconsciousness.
Monday, July 19, 2010
In chip news...
I have now polished off an entire bag of Late Night Cheeseburger Doritos. These are a mysterious taste sensation. They taste like a very specific cheeseburger, but I can't identify which one. I'm leaning towards A&W, but I don't think that's right. They don't taste like a McD's cheeseburger or one from Harvey's. Some day I will identify, probably in a dream, the exact place where this flavour of cheeseburger is served.
So, I have to rate them as a novelty chip. Interesting, but not something I will crave.
I cannot see myself wanting to eat these on a weekly basis, therefore, although good and intriguing they will not be entering the Pantheon of Chiply Delights.
Rating on the traditional wang-o-meter: 7.
So, I have to rate them as a novelty chip. Interesting, but not something I will crave.
I cannot see myself wanting to eat these on a weekly basis, therefore, although good and intriguing they will not be entering the Pantheon of Chiply Delights.
Rating on the traditional wang-o-meter: 7.
Naughty Book Talk
Went out to the countryside yesterday to attend a literary “talk”, given by a sometimes commenter on this blog, and, we now know, avid pornography researcher. Hmm. (You think you know a guy, and then this…)
Congrats to Brian. I thought he did an excellent job, seemed pretty relaxed to me.
I think more research needs to be done on the topic of the ménage-a-trois in rural
Friday, July 16, 2010
Soon, he'll be bigger than Jesus
Not one, but two, stories in the news today about Paul, the psychic octopus.
He has made his prediction for the winner of the next Russian election to be held in 2012. But, the decision is being kept secret until that time. I'm on pins and needles.
Second,
"Paul is now so popular in Spain that a northwestern Spanish town tried to borrow him. Officials in O Caraballino, population 14,000, declared that the octopus is their "honorary friend" and wanted Paul's presence to promote a seafood festival, the Faro de Vigo newspaper said.
A businessman from the town also offered 30,000 euros (C$40,740) to buy Paul, but the newspaper said Sea Life declined."
I want to be an honorary friend of Spain.
He has made his prediction for the winner of the next Russian election to be held in 2012. But, the decision is being kept secret until that time. I'm on pins and needles.
Second,
"Paul is now so popular in Spain that a northwestern Spanish town tried to borrow him. Officials in O Caraballino, population 14,000, declared that the octopus is their "honorary friend" and wanted Paul's presence to promote a seafood festival, the Faro de Vigo newspaper said.
A businessman from the town also offered 30,000 euros (C$40,740) to buy Paul, but the newspaper said Sea Life declined."
I want to be an honorary friend of Spain.
Thursday, July 15, 2010
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Liberté, égalité, fraternité*
*I don't know how to put accents on in blogger, but then I had the brilliant idea of copying the title from wikipedia, and voila, accents. C'est magnifique.
Ever have a memory pop into your head from, say, 30 years ago, and think "I cannot remember the last time I thought of that"? I just had one.
I was thinking of a friend whose birthday I always remember because it is today, the French Holiday.
Suddenly, I remembered an even older friend, from Cegep days, Amanda S., who spent most of her time worrying about her love life/sex life. At one point one summer, she was complaining about her long dry spell and said "It will be 9 months on Bastille Day!"
Totally forgot about that until 10 minutes ago. Happy Bastille Day to all.
Ever have a memory pop into your head from, say, 30 years ago, and think "I cannot remember the last time I thought of that"? I just had one.
I was thinking of a friend whose birthday I always remember because it is today, the French Holiday.
Suddenly, I remembered an even older friend, from Cegep days, Amanda S., who spent most of her time worrying about her love life/sex life. At one point one summer, she was complaining about her long dry spell and said "It will be 9 months on Bastille Day!"
Totally forgot about that until 10 minutes ago. Happy Bastille Day to all.
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
Eat, drink and be merry
We will be boozing at lunch today. Huzzah.
Our boss is away, which is good because she is extremely uptight about this kind of thing. Our secretary has just been appointed for the next 3 years and she is the one who wants to celebrate, so she has brought in Egyptian foods for us to taste, and others are bringing the wine.
Afternoon of No Work ahead! Doesn't take much to make me happy.
Update: There wasn't that much food, but there were at least 5 bottles of wine. Two hours later, I went back to my desk. Drunk. And I'm still drunk. Like, seriously drunk. This is baaaad. Ha ha ha.
Our boss is away, which is good because she is extremely uptight about this kind of thing. Our secretary has just been appointed for the next 3 years and she is the one who wants to celebrate, so she has brought in Egyptian foods for us to taste, and others are bringing the wine.
Afternoon of No Work ahead! Doesn't take much to make me happy.
Update: There wasn't that much food, but there were at least 5 bottles of wine. Two hours later, I went back to my desk. Drunk. And I'm still drunk. Like, seriously drunk. This is baaaad. Ha ha ha.
Sunday, July 11, 2010
Take Sominex tonite and sleep...
For the past two nights, I've gone to bed sporting assorted gizmos to determine if I have sleep apnea. I have worn a band around my chest, a tube under my nose with two pointy bits up my nostrils, a heart-rate clamp on my pinky finger and a monitor hanging around my neck. And all the wires that connect each thing to the monitor. Lots of wires.
I'm too sexy for my bed.
Needless to say it hasn't been the funnest weekend of my life in the sleep department, but I did manage six or seven hours sleep each night. The data collected will determine if I have sleep apnea. If I do, I will be fitted with a Hannibal Lecter style breathing apparatus.
To quote my brother-in-law (who wears one himself) "You'll never get laid again."
Wouldn't it have been easier to have written two signs that say "yes" and "no" and put them in the octopus tank. He would know if I have sleep apnea. So much simpler.
I'm too sexy for my bed.
Needless to say it hasn't been the funnest weekend of my life in the sleep department, but I did manage six or seven hours sleep each night. The data collected will determine if I have sleep apnea. If I do, I will be fitted with a Hannibal Lecter style breathing apparatus.
To quote my brother-in-law (who wears one himself) "You'll never get laid again."
Wouldn't it have been easier to have written two signs that say "yes" and "no" and put them in the octopus tank. He would know if I have sleep apnea. So much simpler.
Viva Espana
Is that goalkeeper EVER going to stop crying? Stop crying, little goalkeeper. He's so happy.
The octopus will not be denied.
The octopus will not be denied.
Le grand jour
The Big Day is here at last. The day when we all learn the answer to the world's hottest question: Is that octopus ever wrong?
Friday, July 09, 2010
Well, I'm crushed
Larry King is calling off his divorce. Why oh why are all the good ones taken?
Here I was primping and prepping, waiting for my chance to be Wife No. 9, 10, whatever.
Back to the old drawing board.
Here I was primping and prepping, waiting for my chance to be Wife No. 9, 10, whatever.
Back to the old drawing board.
Uncle! Oncle!
I have officially hit the wall. The wall of heat. I'd coped pretty well all week, with my baby powder innovations and my portable fan. I'd done pretty well. But last night's humidity has led me to throw in the (very damp) towel. I give up, Mother Nature.
So today I am, for the first time this week, faced with that zoned out fatigue. It's 9:40 and I've already checked my watch about 10 times. This day is going to draaaaag. I bought some strong corsé coffee instead of my regular bland Colombian, hoping this will wake me up. So far it has not.
In other news, bring back the Cold War. And not just because it was Cold. I love US/Russian spy swaps on the tarmac at Vienna. I hope it was done in swirling fog by men wearing trenchcoats and fedoras. Don't we all the miss the USSR? I sure do.
Speaking of Russia, isn't it about time for the annual Putin bare-chested vacation photos?
In chip news, I stopped by Provigo hoping to find Late Night Cheeseburger Doritos, but alas, they did not have them. So I bought the store brand "Barbecue Baby Back Rib" flavor. Guess what? Tastes like BBQ. What a surprise. Not a bad flavor, tho. Kinda has that chicory smoked thing happening. I give 'em a 6 on the wang-o-meter.
Will I find the elusive Cheeseburger Doritos before my Lipitor runs out. Stay tuned....
So today I am, for the first time this week, faced with that zoned out fatigue. It's 9:40 and I've already checked my watch about 10 times. This day is going to draaaaag. I bought some strong corsé coffee instead of my regular bland Colombian, hoping this will wake me up. So far it has not.
In other news, bring back the Cold War. And not just because it was Cold. I love US/Russian spy swaps on the tarmac at Vienna. I hope it was done in swirling fog by men wearing trenchcoats and fedoras. Don't we all the miss the USSR? I sure do.
Speaking of Russia, isn't it about time for the annual Putin bare-chested vacation photos?
In chip news, I stopped by Provigo hoping to find Late Night Cheeseburger Doritos, but alas, they did not have them. So I bought the store brand "Barbecue Baby Back Rib" flavor. Guess what? Tastes like BBQ. What a surprise. Not a bad flavor, tho. Kinda has that chicory smoked thing happening. I give 'em a 6 on the wang-o-meter.
Will I find the elusive Cheeseburger Doritos before my Lipitor runs out. Stay tuned....
Wednesday, July 07, 2010
Today's semi-final
I have no idea who will win today. I do like the German team alot, and I don't like David Villa who strikes me as a bit of a little snot.
But now I have read that the psychic octopus has predicted a Spanish victory, so why even bother watching. The results has been predetermined. The octopus is never wrong.
So like him or not, I am stuck with watching David Villa in the finals.
The octopus is never wrong.
So for the final I say: Go Holland!
But now I have read that the psychic octopus has predicted a Spanish victory, so why even bother watching. The results has been predetermined. The octopus is never wrong.
So like him or not, I am stuck with watching David Villa in the finals.
The octopus is never wrong.
So for the final I say: Go Holland!
Random news
JAW Fan informed me that the Doritos Cheeseburger flavour have arrived locally. This is more exciting than local strawberries, sez I. I am on the verge of going on a drug holiday (no, I'm not going to Colombia). This means I will be quitting my hated cholesterol medication for 6 to 9 months to see how well I can control my levels on my own. I have about 10 days worth of pills to finish from my last prescription.
This, of course, means if I want to gorge on Cheeseburger-flavoured Doritos, I have to do it within the next 10 days. Busy, busy.
I'm hating the heat wave, but I have yet to experience a sleepless night. Seems each summer I come up with a new trick for getting to sleep. This week's innovation is to put a lot of baby powder on every part of me that normally sticks to another part in the night. For example, at the elbow, in the fold where I bend my arm. Load that up with baby powder so there is no stickiness. It worked amazingly well last night. Back of the knees, too. So I can scrunch in fetal position a bit without going "ooooh sticky".
Yay, Holland! All the way, crazy orange people!
This, of course, means if I want to gorge on Cheeseburger-flavoured Doritos, I have to do it within the next 10 days. Busy, busy.
I'm hating the heat wave, but I have yet to experience a sleepless night. Seems each summer I come up with a new trick for getting to sleep. This week's innovation is to put a lot of baby powder on every part of me that normally sticks to another part in the night. For example, at the elbow, in the fold where I bend my arm. Load that up with baby powder so there is no stickiness. It worked amazingly well last night. Back of the knees, too. So I can scrunch in fetal position a bit without going "ooooh sticky".
Yay, Holland! All the way, crazy orange people!
Tuesday, July 06, 2010
Global warming miracle
It's true, but I can barely believe it. It is too hot for the CPNs to eat outside. For the first time in 11 summers, they are not eating out. Their doors and curtains are shut; they are not letting the heat in and they are not letting themselves out.
This truly is an effing miracle.
This truly is an effing miracle.
Monday, July 05, 2010
Waaah! (but refreshing)
I'm back at work. grrr.
On the plus side, it's air conditioned. This would not have been a good week to be home, though I am tempted to take Tuesday and Wednesday afternoons off to...what else...watch the semi finals. Let's see how the workload looks, then I'll decide tomorrow morning.
Such a hard worker, me. I do have over 40 vacation days coming, so two more 1/2 days wouldn't hurt, would it? Nah.
On the plus side, it's air conditioned. This would not have been a good week to be home, though I am tempted to take Tuesday and Wednesday afternoons off to...what else...watch the semi finals. Let's see how the workload looks, then I'll decide tomorrow morning.
Such a hard worker, me. I do have over 40 vacation days coming, so two more 1/2 days wouldn't hurt, would it? Nah.
Saturday, July 03, 2010
Ball of Confusion
Yesterday morning I could not see that there was any possibility for anything other than a World Cup final featuring Brazil v Argentina. What do I know? Nothing, apparently.
I hardly know who to pick now. With apologies to my late father, who I trust is not reading from the Great Beyond, I really like this German team a lot. It's true!! Father forgive me, for I am sinning. But I like them, I really like them. I believe they can beat Spain. And we are looking at a Germany v Netherlands final. Tres cool.
And I'd have to stick with the Netherlands to win, because they've never done so before, and also, well, because of the War. Heh. I haven't totally forgotten about the War.
Oddest line of the day belongs to, who else, John Helm, about, who else, Maradona. I paraphrase a bit here: "He cuts a lonely figure sometimes. And a demented one too sometimes."
Now is that nice?
I hardly know who to pick now. With apologies to my late father, who I trust is not reading from the Great Beyond, I really like this German team a lot. It's true!! Father forgive me, for I am sinning. But I like them, I really like them. I believe they can beat Spain. And we are looking at a Germany v Netherlands final. Tres cool.
And I'd have to stick with the Netherlands to win, because they've never done so before, and also, well, because of the War. Heh. I haven't totally forgotten about the War.
Oddest line of the day belongs to, who else, John Helm, about, who else, Maradona. I paraphrase a bit here: "He cuts a lonely figure sometimes. And a demented one too sometimes."
Now is that nice?
Friday, July 02, 2010
That World Cup, she is kookoo, crazy, loco
My heart can't keep watching. It will give out. It's the Big One. Elizabeth, I'm coming to join you, honey! ayeeee.
For those who are expecting commentary on the Dutch victory. Here it is: Yay!
Unexpected and delightful. All the way, you Dutch guys!
As for Ghana. Well, first Uruguay: Sometimes you win by not losing. And as for Ghana: sometimes you just plain lose by losing. Really, guys. No excuses for Gyan. My heart, as I said earlier, was in my throat. Pure torture.
One other thing: Uruguay has the greatest anthem evah! The intro is longer than most other complete anthems, and it is so zany and jolly, even more than Italy's. It sounds like it's from a Marx Bros movie. Fortunately we'll get to hear it again!
For those who are expecting commentary on the Dutch victory. Here it is: Yay!
Unexpected and delightful. All the way, you Dutch guys!
As for Ghana. Well, first Uruguay: Sometimes you win by not losing. And as for Ghana: sometimes you just plain lose by losing. Really, guys. No excuses for Gyan. My heart, as I said earlier, was in my throat. Pure torture.
One other thing: Uruguay has the greatest anthem evah! The intro is longer than most other complete anthems, and it is so zany and jolly, even more than Italy's. It sounds like it's from a Marx Bros movie. Fortunately we'll get to hear it again!
Thursday, July 01, 2010
Happy Canada Day
In between the rain showers, which are frequent, frustrating and annoying, I am attempting to wash windows. I have lots of help.
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