People ask me about Passover. I loathe explaining it, because I'm always afraid of my own ignorance, however; I did a good job in an email to Rick when he asked about the Seder. He also did a bit of research and I'll post that here, too.

From my email: The Seder is the Passover supper (there are three: two on the first two nights and one on the last, but reformed Jews usually only do the first, and sometimes the second).

Through the eating of specific foods, we commemorate the suffering and blessings that our ancestors survived in their flight from Egypt. Passover itself is refering to the final plague set upon the Egyptians... the killing of the first born son. Jews marked their doors with lamb blood to signify their faith and so, the Angel of Death passed over their houses.

In Christian terms, the Seder is what Jesus celebrated with his disciples when they had the Last Supper.

From the website, detailing what is set upon the Seder plate:

Maror
Bitter Herbs (usually horseradish) symbolize the bitterness of Egyptian slavery

Karpas
Vegetable (usually parsley) is dipped into salt water during the seder. The salt water represents the tears shed during Egyptian slavery.

Chazeret
Bitter Vegetable (often lettuce) is often used in addition to the maror as a bitter herb

Charoset
Apple, nuts, and spices ground together and mixed with wine are symbolic of the mortar used by Hebrew slaves to build Egyptian structures

Zeroa
The Shankbone is symbolic of the Paschal lamb offered as the Passover sacrifice in biblical times

Beitzah
The Roasted Egg is symbolic of the festival sacrifice made in biblical times

I hope that enlightens a few.

HAPPY PASSOVER !!

I'm in the Petes for high-holiday celebrations, principally Passover, but since we're a mixed religious household, a little of Easter too.

Last night, while I was watching Law & Order, I finished modeling Rick's masque. It's looking pretty cool now, in a very traditional, baroque, costume-ball sort of way. I hope he likes it. I'm going to buy thin fabric to cover it, in dark red and black, probably a pvc-type cloth, in order to give it shine without resorting to varnishing it. That would make it ridiculously heavy, and already, the nose gives it a lot of frontal weight. I put a bit of padding in the bridge of its nose, as the weight might irritate the real nose on which it is balanced. Anyway, it's looking pretty snappy.

In a less-than-traditional celebration of the first full day of Passover, I'm going to buy a glue gun. *laugh* Since the stores are open today, unlike tomorrow, it will give me a chance to cover my own masque in the fabrics that I've already bought.

In other news, the OPSEU strike is still progressing at a pace - the government still refuses to return to the bargaining table, which means the front-line public service remains in front lines on the sidewalks. The spirit remains high, even though by all accounts, the strike will continue for a long, long time. The general feeling is that no one is going to attempt to bring them back inside until Ernie Eves actually steps up to take over from Harris, mid-April. How nice. That way, Eves can look like a hero and Tsubouchi will take the fall. The government continues to pretend that this strike makes little difference in the grand scheme of things, but in the long run, that won't end up the case. Water will go untested, foods will go uninspected, wildlife will go unprotected, the courts will be backed up, among many other things. So, sure, the goverment saves money by not paying the salaries of 30,000 people, but it loses money in a much more long-term, perhaps less visible, or sexy sort of way. It's a situation that sucks. For everyone.

Can you believe that it's snowing? I'm not talking about flurries, either, I'm talking about the real thing, a regular heavy snowfall. So, now that spring is here, apparently, it's time for winter to begin. Apparently the entities controling the weather have gotten some wires crossed.

I'm not actually complaining, as I'm one of those wackos that really like snow. Frankly, there's been so little, that I might go out at lunch just to kick some of the white stuff around. Of course, all my appropriate footwear is still at Al&Carrie's, as I hadn't expected a full coverage of snow at this point in the season, at least not after such a ridiculously mild winter.

Naturally, the weather turned... I had to move. Why should I get mild, sunny weather for that? I should appreciate the flurries that fell and the grey depressing sky overhead, right? Sure. Anyway, I did move again, to my new official place, with Nick. The move went well (this past Saturday, it was) since the majority of stuff was all boxed up and ready to go in storage. Ryan was supposed to help, but due to his cysty girlfriend being de-cysted he had to look after her following the operation. I'm still waiting to meet this woman who manages to keep me from any sort of contact with Ryan most of the time. It's getting insulting that I -haven't- been introduced.

Anyway, I digress. Rick, despite a wickedly gimpy knee, was a trouper and helped me pack up the big cargo van (thank God it wasn't the guzzling truck, this time) and haul everything up to my new appartment. We did snap at each other a lot, due to the high stress of the situation, but I guess that was to be expected. Back at A&C's Al helped move he remainder of my furniture from there to my new place, leaving Rick to recover some mobility with Carrie. Ooh, that sounds almost dirty.

Nick helped too, carrying things up the stairs into the appartment, and depositing them hither and yon. Rick spent the night with me, not that I was much fun, I'll admit, for as soon as my head hit the pillow, I fell asleep.

Sunday, I was a mess of aches and pains, grumpiness, and bitchiness. I was mildly entertained at Heretic by a cross-dresser with bad, but expensive, taste in women's clothing. Sandles? Platform sandles? Hello, it's COLD. Anyway, he bought a funky chainmail purse so it was all good. I had my first dinner in the house that night, cooked by Nick, and it was a cheesy, garlicky noodle mess that tasted most delicious. I ate it while I watched the Academy Awards. I also started to organise my room, which is going to be no small feat.

Yesterday was a day for extreme mental confusion. I just kept going the wrong way (including on the subway - you'd think I'd never ridden one before). I was half an hour late for work. After work, I had to walk back to my old neighbourhood to get my car. I needed to do some Passover shopping. I had much fun at the HUGE Dominion at Lawrence and Bathurst where there is an enormous kosher section due to the high number of Jews in the area.

There was a youngish Orthodox man, maybe 22 at the oldest, in the check-out line ahead of me with 20 two-litre bottles of Coke in his cart, 4 two-litre bottles of Canada Dry, and 2 two-litres of tonic. I couldn't help it, I giggled and said, "That's a lot of Coke, there." He blushed and nodded.

Me: "You know, Coke's not good for you."
Him: "I know." (sheepish grin)
Me: "It makes you pee."
Him: (chuckling and blushing) "I know."

Then I pulled out my pathetic Passover foods, all out of boxes and cans and set them on the conveyor belt. He looked at them and raised a brow. I looked at him and back at my food.

Me: "Don't start. I'm a recovering university student. I don't have the time or money for homemade seder food."
Him: (grinning widely) "I didn't say a word." (more blushing)
Me: "Uh huh."
Him: (more smirky smiling)
Me: Cola boy. (evil grin)
Him: Ooohh. (little whiney noise and tiny stamping of feet)

I wished him a good Passover as he finished checking through and he me. Hee !

I worked on the masques last night, too, after being lost for a long time on the way to Nicole's new place. Rick's masque is very traditional, but I'm beginning to like it very much. I hope he likes it. It has a very long nose, which he asked for. Mine is very helmety but quite fantastic. It's ready for covering with fabric now. I'm taking them both home this holiday to work on them. Nicole is wonderful. I like her more and more.

Must get some food now.

I've been quite depressed of late. It's a frustrating feeling, depression is. Every little thing seems like a personal slight, or like you're being left out, ignored... I don't like it. I've recently switched a med and I think it's playing with me, but it should all settle down soon.

I went for dinner tonight with Rick, after Heretic, which was very nice. We went to Squirrly's, a place he'd not been before, and I think he enjoyed it. He had their muscles and their special lasagna, and I had their cheesey escargot and a baked chicken breast stuffed with... Bacon ! For dessert I had their creme caramel and it was delicious. It was nice to see Rick. He is a wonderful man. *love*

I reserved my U-Haul for Saturday; it's a van this time, of eleven feet, rather than the 14' truck. There were no available trucks for Saturday. I also phoned Bell and got myself a phone line which will be hooked-up on Saturday, and then Nick can set about getting dsl for us. It's exciting. Part of me would like the ease of staying with Al and Carrie, who have both been wonderful landlords, but more parts of me want to be closer to downtown, and whatnot. Even though Al hides things (constantly hides things, like my umbrella, for instance) and Carrie takes my money in the form of rent, I have enjoyed living with them. Lots.

Here's something I want to do, though... learn to ride side-saddle. Whoa, that's out of the blue, right? Well, no, not entirely, since I've had the idea for some time now. I discovered, quite by accident while surffing sites about women's wedding fashions with Carrie, a link to female riding habit and was quite stunned when I found myself at the World Sidesaddle Federation, Inc. So, following the links, I looked through their certified instructors and fell upon the only person teaching in Ontario and she happens to teach just an hour or so outside of Toronto ! I emailed her and she seemed nice, so in April I will make a trip out to her stabble to check it out and hopefully I'll start taking some periodic lessons in May. I'd love to compete in dressage side-saddle, even if it's only at the most basic levels. Can you imagine the looks of stunned surprise? It strikes me as a good thing to work to in my future. And a keen way to spend my time.

Today is a sleepy day, and I don't just mean because I stayed awake much too late last night. It's rainy and dreary outside, cold and mucky grey. Sure, I looked snappy in my full length pleather coat, but let's face it, nasty rainy days, where the sky just opens up and drools on you, aren't nice. I like rain. This is not the kind of rain I warm up to.

I'm at the ROM today, big surprise, and so far, nothing eventful has happened for me to write about. This is just fine with me. I didn't end up doing much of any use yesterday, though I did do a political cartoon. I felt inspired. There had been intentions of visiting the consulate and making a couple of trips from storage to appartment, but ultimately, I decided I'd rather sit back in my chair and play on the computer. It was a mental health day.

I picked Rick up from work, though, and we took his presents back to his place and then went for Chinese at the restaurant right by his house. Sadly, the food did not sit well with me. That's the problem with restuarants that specialise in Americanised Chinese food: it's greasy, heavy, and runs right through.

Happy Two Year Anniversary, Rick. Okay, so it was yesterday, but I didn't get a chance to update. It was a lovely anniversary, even though the restaurant of our choice wasn't open. We went to the zesty little Indian place at Bathurst and Bloor. Very satisfying. He spent the night here and we exchanged gifts. I got the tickets to see Julius Caesar in April, and he was stunned by what I got him. A signed/numbered Brom piece, which I had framed (the part that I thought wasn't going to be ready in time), also a pictorial guide to LotR and finally, in his card were a pair of tickets to see Nick Cave. He was pleasantly stunned. It was lovely.

It's been a while since my last entry, and I have some trepidation that this entry might well make up for lost journal opportunities. Wait, don't go away, it will be interesting !

I should wish my mother a happy birthday, as it passed on the Ides of March. Of course, there is NOTHING exciting about the Ides of March as every month has one. Mostly they fall on the 13th of each month, with the exception of four months, including March, when it is on the 15th. Confusing, I know, but I'm sure there is very good literature out there about Ides, and it shouldn't be viewed with any worry or foreboding, as March's Ides was just one of a dozen. Oh, jolly fine luck, I just found a good summary site that can help anyone who is remotely interested in the Roman calendar. I am a geek. Go here for the Ides of March. Anyway, I digressed somewhat. Her birthday does indeed fall upon the historically and literally flaunted date, and it comes as no surprise that it happened again this year. I, with the help of Ray, cooked her dinner. I did a fantastic job, too, for one who does not cook. I made top striploin steaks on the indoor grill, steamed brocolli (sp?) in lemon water with sugar, melted romano cheese and butter over it, and a great big greek salad. Everything turned out fancy, especially the cider, which I made again, which was heartily enjoyed. Also, Mom'd requested the same maple-walnut cake that we'd gotten for Ray the week before, and so she was not disappointed. I gave her a card that made her cry, and a pair of reproduction Tang Dynasty horses. Ray gave her a card that made her laugh, and her favourite of his figure drawings. She was thrilled. We also rented and watched a most excellent film called Bride of the Wind, which is about - well, it's about love, life, and art. But it's a lot more than just that. See it.

That same day, I had a follow-up appointment with the doctor that I do not like so that she could discuss the things that the very wonderful Neurologist, Dr. Tovich, recommended. Certain things were put into place, and though she was trying to be pleasant, I'm afraid she did considerable harm to my opinion of her and I was merely civil. I also made a stop at the picket line outside the big MNR building on Water St so that I could bolster spirits and say hello to those I knew. I danced around and was silly. For information about the Peterborough picket as well as links to other strike-related webpages, for photos and fun, please visit this site for Local 362.

I am here going to pause in my chronological detailing of events, in order to tell a story. Actually, it's a dream that I had on Friday morning before I woke up. I wrote it down as soon as I found a pen, because it was so bizarre. Even my mother, who HATES hearing my dreams, and always has, had to admit that it was pretty interesting. It begins with me driving my car, perhaps not my Subaru, but a car that is mine, nonetheless. With me are Rick and Nick. We're heading somewhere, but Nick abruptly, and with monkey-like arm-flailing, tells me to stop the car because we must see one particular fancy painting that is hanging in a library. I pull up to the curb outside a library that looks an awful lot like the one I used to go to as a little girl, George Locke Library. On the inside, however; everything is quite unlike that, and much more like the inside of a museum. The lady behind the desk says we can't go in because the library's about to close, but that doesn't stop Nick or Rick who both take off inside and I am forced to quickly follow. Somewhere at this point, Rick disappears.

Finally, Nick leads us (I haven't yet realised that Rick is no longer with me) to the main room where the painting apparently hangs. The ceilings are ridiculously high, and there is art all over the vast walls, but we realise that the room is a massive sprawling tavern. And it's full of satyrs. There are some humans in the mix, but mostly it's all male and female satyrs drinking and rollicking. This is when I turn around and cannot find Rick. I scan the room with a mounting sense of panic. Satyr faces seem to pop up at me in every direction, laughing and grinning. Nick points to the spot where the painting should have been hanging, but only an outline made by decades of soot and dirt mark where the picture had hung. Nick says, "Maybe they take it down at night," by way of justifying it's absence. I try to tell Nick that Rick is missing, but just as he's about to reply, the crowd opens up and we stumble on Katie Allen (a girl I was never quite friends with in highschool) who is also a satyr. At first I don't notice that it is her, because she has small female goat horns and bizarre horns pointing down along her jawline, plus a goat beard. Amazingly, when I do realise it is her, I tell her that I didn't recognise her because her hair is so different.

In satyr-Katie's hand, tucked under her arm is a book, which she suddenly opens and it plays music - I think the Danse Macabre, by Saint-Saens, but I don't recall clearly. Once more, I begin to worry about Rick, and for a moment I think I can see him in the forest of human and satyr faces, but it is only a fleeting glance, and perhaps it wasn't him. I don't know. The whole scene in the tavern/library/museum is something out of a film - my mother said it sounded like a Cocteau film, but I don't know his work - as though filmed through a slightly yellow filter with quick camera cuts and long rotating pan shots. The satyrs all looked like they were wearing stage make-up from the 18th century, as well as matching clothes. It was fantastical !

A wirey red-haired satyr yells that the library is closing in five minutes (I think he might have said 'cinq minutes') and "Finish your drinks !" All the satyrs chug back their ales and beers as though they might never drink again. They butt heads and rub cheeks with each other, some of them pawing at my face, in a sort of goodbye. Then, utter pandemonium breaks loose as a piece of wall on either side of the room breaks free roughly mid-way along the long walls, and begins to slide closed barring exit from the tavern. It seems impossible to escape as satyrs flee into far corners and most of the humans try to escape through the steadily closing walls. I have to climb up a beer-soaked bar in order to get out, and Nick makes it up but tumbles down over the other side. People are pulling at me as they hoist themselves up and I am pretty certain I am going to be trapped. The wirey satyr sees my trouble and pulls me up onto the bar, steadying me. For the briefest moment, I see deep sorrow in his eyes, but then he turns away.

I try to scan the room again for Rick, calling out his name over and over, but I cannot see him. I think I might have started to cry. The same satyr whispers that I have to run, "get out ! Get away, NOW !" And hustles me off the bar, just as the wall closes behind me, trapping the remaining humans in with the satyrs. Guards start shooing us (I've at least found Nick, now) toward the entrance of the library. We stumble through the childrens' section of the library, and stop dead as we see Annabelle (another highschool personality) sitting against the wall, engrossed in the very same musical book that satyr-Katie had had.

Once outside, somehow I just know that Rick is still inside the library and my resolve firms up that I must get back inside to find him. It also seems that somehow, the missing painting has something to do with the satyrs (I'm not sure how I know, I suppose it's just a hunch). It is Nick who voices these very same thoughts and adds that he believes the musical book is the key to understanding the situation and saving(?) the satyrs. Here I woke up.

Perhaps when I've got some time, I'll draw some of it as I seem to have a crystal clear recollection of several of the scenes. It was very surreal and filmic, utterly engrossing, and when I awoke, I was left feeling very much like there had to be a Part Two.

Anyway, to finally wrap up my log for today, I'll talk about how I spent last night. Saturday night was a get together for the Realms of Despair (sort of like a quarterly mini-reunion) that is held at the Fox and Fiddle in the middle of beautiful Mississauga. That was supposed to be sarcasm. The get together was a real hoot. I got to meet Zyandra, who is the current Queen of the Drow on Realms, filling my shoes quite nicely, and so far she is probably the best leader the nation has had. It was wonderful to meet her ! Much eating, drinking, merriment, and dancing occurred, with Rick getting happily drunk, and me dancing until I hurt in many places I'd forgotten could hurt. Amazingly stupid photos were taken, and some that weren't (notably those taken by Zyandra). Zy was so quick about getting her pics up, that I can already provide a link. It was awesome fun, and lovely to see some familiar faces and have my butt kicked by Tical at darts. Twice. In a row. Anyway, just in case you don't know, I would be identified as Rhyl on Zyandra's page. We're talking character names, here, and Desidio would happen to be Rick.

Now, it's very late and I've been writing this for FAR too long. I'm tired and need to go to bed. I have a long day at the ROM tomorrow as well as my fancy two-year anniversary with Rick to celebrate tomorrow night. Woohoo ! Goodnight.

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take
the "which country are you?" quiz here.  by
littlelamb.

Okay, so this is what they said:

yowza! you are merrie olde england!

scholarly, reserved, and quiet- but kinda kinky. trash and tea is how you like it

you hve a good sense of tradition, but also relish a nice vinyl catsuit. you are

the country that made pastoral erotic. you are set in your ways, and don't like to be

bossed around, but hey- remember "the white man's burden?" guess you're a bit of a

hypocrite too. but hey- a commanding artist is rare to find.

My second choice was France, which seems an unlikely pair, but the link's broken, so let's read the next one. No, those links (to America and Canada (kick-ass) don't work either. And I'm not sure of my fifth place match which is Iraq. Nevermind then, England it is !

Yesterday did not go as planned at all. The plan had been to get up at a reasonable hour and head to the US Consulate to see about getting my social security number. Following that I was going to buy paint and finish the wall of my room before picking up Nick to move some shit out of storage into the appartment. Then I was supposed to get Rick and have a quiet night with him uptown with some soup and toast (he'd been sick, you see, and I wasn't feeling so swell myself) and "Mad Max."

What really happened was that I over slept by three hours waking up in the throes of caffeine withdrawl. I infused myself with coffee immediately and had a leisurely breakfast knowing that I had already missed the Consulate. I took a shower and found my headache had gotten worse, so I took some gentle anti-inflamatory medicine which often pre-empts migraines. Then I drove downtown and picked up Nick. We picked up the paint and headed down toward the storage place. It was around 3 o'clock, or something at this point (my watch is presently residing in Nicole's house) and we stopped at Heretic for me to drop some paint chips off for Sandra, before stopping at Java for a sandwich. I, naturally, ordered a brie & avocado sandwich on French bread, but when it arrived, there was a distinct lack of avocado. Two sandwiches later, then, we made it to Public Storage where we opened up the space and Nick was pleasantly surprised to find it being guarded by a life-size Darth Maul. Several useful items later, we had the car loaded up and I phoned Rick to let him know I would be arriving later than we'd thought because of oversleeping.

At the appartment, I got sidetracked, in part as a means to distract myself from an increasingly painful head, cleaning the kitchen cabinets. My God, were they ever foul. I didn't finish them, but left orders with Nick to do the cabinet shelves I had trouble reaching, and proceded to set the glassware that I'd unpacked in handy-to-reach locations. I decided it was well past time for me to finish my wall, which I started with gusto, only to find that the paint fumes went straight to my wickedly sore noggin. I had to stop, pouring the paint back into the can from the tray and leaving the cleaning up to Nick. I knew right then that the headache had become the dreaded migraine, and what I SHOULD have done was taken my meds and laid down on Nick's bed. That is not what I did.

I left for Rick's place, afterall, we had an in-house date, and I phoned him to let him know I was having a migraine but it was bearable. We'd get back to Al & Carrie's and I'd take my meds, sleep for an hour and all would be well. So I thought. By the time I reached Rick's, my head was hurting hugely, but because I was set on returning to the place of my bed, I didn't want to take the Maxalt - which would, of course, render me unable to drive safely - until I got there. A stop at the No Frills for soupy things (the in-house date was still considered a go) left me near tears in the car waiting for Rick to return. What followed was a fast drive home, the pain increasing at ever click of the odometer, until I finally was able to climb into bed. I did so, thinking it was only a matter of time before the Maxalt made it all better.

An hour or two later, I knew I had to go to the hospital. I knew this when I couldn't stop moaning and crying. Rick tried to soothe me, but by telling me not to talk, which seemed impossible to me as I lay there uttering "oh God, oh God, make it stop," and I quite unintentionally told him to "fuck off". I knew then that I could not make it through the night. I told Rick to ask Al & Carrie if one of them could take me to Sunnybrook hospital and Carrie (THANK YOU, CARRIE !) volunteered. The elevator ride and car trip, short as they were, set me to nauseated reeling and by the time I got to the triage nurse I was a weeping mess. I had a dishcloth wrapped around an ineffective icepack held to my forehead and my hand was over my eyes. I barely recall whether I looked at the nurse at all. I do know that I was put through quite quickly.

Rick accompanied me into the emergency room and Carrie stayed out in the waiting room. The doctor came along quickly, I think, a young doctor (as they always are in the emergency rooms) by the name of Dr. Lee. Looking at him through splayed fingers and squinted eyes, he seemed an angel of hope. Especially since he actually took my querry about what narcotic they'd give me quite seriously. I said, no demerol - it never works - but toredol is a charm. He said he'd go for the better anit-inflamatory, which is Maxerin (a relative to Maxalt, perhaps?) and if it didn't work well, they'd dose me with toredol, too. It took a moment for Rick to realise, and then tell me, that when Dr. Lee said he'd set me on an intraveinous, that was NOT the same as an intramuscular. I deluded myself with thinking I'd just get a needle in the arm.

I got an IV pole.

I'm terrified of needles. However, after a bit of hyperventilating and freaking out, I took the needle and sucked it up because it was going to help me. Maybe a half hour after the nurse gave me the needle she came back, checked the empty bag and asked me to describe the pain. On a scale of 1 to 10, and if 10 was what it had been, I replied that it was a 7. She said she'd be back with the toredol. By the time the second drug was coursing through me, the headache was barely a concern, and the nurse returned to find me sitting up waiting to be told to go home. The doctor came back to check on me and found me bouncing with good spirits. I thanked him and he went to find a nurse to unhook me. No problem with the needle now, I was high as a kite. Carrie took us back home and was more than happy to fall into her bed because it was just after midnight.

Actually, three hours is pretty damn good for an emergency room visit, especially considering they didn't just shoot me up and send me home as usual. I will commend Sunnybrook on their excellent emergency room. From what I heard around me, when I cared to listen, was a doctor (Dr. Lee, again) taking no chances with anyone's conditions. I heard him call for a surgeon to see the gentleman in the room beside me, and send a woman up for emergency x-rays of her blockage. No waiting, no poo-pooing the patients, he handled each one with charm and humour. The nurses were the same, each with a sense of humour and a lovely bedside manner. I'm sure it isn't like that all the time, different staff make for different experiences, but they were very good. And funny, and quite laid back. It's nice to hear the staff able to laugh and joke.

Anyway, the long story is that I never got a chance to have my nice evening with Rick, at all, except we dd eat our soup when we got home. I pretty much fell into bed and slept. I woke up this morning at shortly past six in the morning, I presume the drugs wore off at that point, and staggered out into the appartment for some water and a cookie. I got to watch the sun rise, though, and that was a wonderful thing. It was a beautiful, multi-coloured sun rise that turned the eastern sky flaming hues of red and yellow, purple and blue. Fantastic.

I'm off to work, and if I can do it, the Consulate beforehand, then off to the Petes after work, because it's Mom's birthday tomorrow. Sadly, she'll be spending it on the picket line. OPSEU public servants are on strike, again, because the government is dicking with them, yet again. *raises her fist in solidarity* I think I'll drive by the lines downtown and honk at them. They need all the support they can get. They're up against a hard-line, right-wing government that thinks the 35% pay increase to the MPPs is alright, but 12% over three years is too much for the public servants that do all the work that the MPPs take credit for.

A little while ago, I burst out in a fit of giggles. At first I didn't realise that it was out loud, until I looked up to see Sara staring at me with a 'are you alright?' expression on her face.

I think I've entered one too many new members now, because, earlier, when I looked down at one with the last name, Bakos, I thought, "Uh oh, better get Bakos." That thought led me to envision a dude with a dube traveling around smoking people up, and then I took it further turning "Bakos" into a brand of cereal. "Now with real chunks of brownie."

It's been downhill since then.

Some days really do have 'words of the day' but when you work up in membership at the ROM, entering name after name into the databank, you realise (or maybe you don't) that there are 'names of the day'. Today, having pre-processed about 40 memberships, the three most common names I've had to enter have been: Sharon, Karen, and Andy. I also came across the coolest, or one of, surname I've ever seen: Resurreccion. That's even better than Muerte.

Let me rehash a few things that happened over the last few days, since I've been somewhat remiss in my weblogging. On Saturday, I sat for Ray again. Holding the same position for around three hours, even with breaks, is a painful thing. The finished pastel painting was beautifully drawn, I must say, though it horrified me. "I'm not that fat and ugly, am I?" I thought to myself. It was all sorted out though, because when my mom realised how upset it had made me she told Ray, which he'd suspected, and he said that I could have the charcoals rather than the pastel piece.

Following that, Mom and I went dress shopping and unlike what we expected, which was little success and great frustration, we had the exact opposite. The first gown I tried on fit. The second two, of the same cut and style but different colours, did not fit nearly so well. So, I now have a fancy black gown for Sandra's wedding and the opera with Rick. Here's the best part, the gown was 89.95$ before tax, plus 35% off. Whee !

Sunday was utterly unexciting. I worked at the store, virtually no one came in, and then I went home. Wow. Yesterday, I woke up and felt sort of crappy. So did Carrie. We both called in sick and went back to bed. I crawled out again around noon and felt much better. So did she. What else were we to do? We baked cookies ! And they were delicious butterscotch/chocolate chip cookies. Oh, scrumptious.

I got up the gumption, after several cookies, to get showered and over to Nicole's place for more masque-making, too. We've decided that after the wedding, we're going to continue this fun and make more simple masques for sale in the store. That certainly would be fun, and it would allow more creativity.

As for today, feeling quite a bit better, if a bit stuffy, I'm at the ROM, as I said up top, and it's frenetic. I like it this way, with everyone too busy to piss me off. It's March Break, so there are gizzillions of children and frazzled parents in the building. Sara and I went to Harvey's for lunch - the only spot with halfway realistic line-ups. I found something out, though, that almost freaks me out. The Evil One shares the exact musical passion that I have: Depeche Mode. Is it possible for me to not like someone who calls DM their 'absolute favourite band'? I even offered to lend him my album of DM covers, which leaves me confused. Maybe knowing we both adore this band will make for some unwritten rule that will change our relationship for the better. Doubtful, I hate to say, but I'll keep you posted.

If you've never sat for a portrait - and I'm not talking about in front of a camera lens, let me tell you - the experience will be quite unlike anything you might have expected. Today, in the afternoon, I went to Ray's studio and he drew me. Ray is my mom's "special friend" and he is also the most talented artist I've had the good fortune to meet, ever. He's been pushing for me to sit for him for a while now, and knowing I'd be out in the Petes for a couple days, I agreed to do so today.

He drew me twice, in charcoal - a tricky medium that doesn't give you lots of room to mess up - from two different angles with different light sources. Actually, both times the light came from the window, but I sat in different places in relation to it, and the lighting changed as the afternoon wore on. The trick is to move as little as possible, and to try desperately hard not to react, as in to the radio, or to the artist, or to anything. It's hard. Bloody hard. Several times, I fought the battle to control my face and lost. Ray is patient, however, and for that I am grateful. I also nearly dosed off twice, because it's really difficult to stare at the same bit of wall for an hour with pleasing music playing in the background.

I took breaks, of course, as did Ray, because it is very tiring for the model to sit completely still for a long duration, and for the artist to maintain complete concentration. The first piece was very rough, as Ray called it, very quick and comprised of hard lines and bold shadow. The second is much softer, with more muted contrasts, though with a more direct angle. The first shows me looking sad. I never realised that my relaxed face is so melancholic, perhaps because I'm so animated, usually, but it really is, and my eyes, which have been described as sorrowfully dark and mournful, slant slightly downward on the outer ends, making their expression sort of sad. The second piece allowed me to view Ray working thanks to a mirror hanging behind him, so I look a little more engaged as I watched him work. It was neat. Tomorrow I'm sitting again and he's going to try painting me in pastel.

It was Ray's birthday yesterday, too, so tonight, Mom took him (and me) for dinner at the Twilight Diner, a lovely fusion restaurant in town. Ray was displeased at being the object of a magician's attention, who was basically busking legitimately in the restaurant, and it very nearly ruined our meal. He wasn't so good, either, the magician, though he was pleasant enough. He missed the cues that said, 'go away' and 'don't talk to Ray'. Happily for him, though, he found that the table behind us was full of people perfectly happy to be entertained by his mediocre talent. Anyway, after, we all came back here to Mom's and had cake, of a most scrumptious sort (maple walnut), and gave Ray his presents. We got him a couple of cds, incense, and a fantastic winter jacket/shirt that he absolutely loved.

He's still here, so maybe I should stop being rude and go back down and be social.

Hee, I just read Tanya's log and this jumped out at me: "I love them when they are working nicely for me and I'm having fun with all my bells and whistles." So, that's how she spends her free time...

She is SO going to slap me for this.

Okay, I had a LOT of fun last night. The art was secondary, really, to a bunch of people of mixed ages ranging from early 20s through 70s who just liked to talk about a lot of things. Anne was in wonderfully bright spirits, beaming smiles and offering tasties and wine with gleeful abandon. Two of the men that were at the Holy Blossom Temle thing that I attended back in December were there, and Anne's father and maternal grandmother, among many others. About halfway through the evening, Annabelle, Katie, and Susan showed up - Annabelle with her cute new boyfriend and Katie with a fellow I knew in New College, Eric, and I rather hope he isn't going out with her. Annabelle has been systematically cutting Anne out of her life despite 20 years of friendship, or something, because Anne no longer fits into Annabelle's lifestyle. It's funny that this happened after Anne's accident. I was disgusted by Annabelle's overt disrespect, to the point of isolating herself in the corner with her boyfriend and making obnoxious yawning gestures and giggling. This is the same Annabelle who hosted a sit down dinner party with me six years ago. Apparently, adult parties aren't good enough for her anymore. Susan would probably have stayed longer had Annabelle and Katie not pushed to leave. :(

I actually had arrived at Anne's place about 40 minutes early in order to help her and Celeste, her sister, with the setting up. Anne's in a wheelchair because of a horrible spinal injury she received in France, and another pair of hands that are able to reach tall places is always useful. I brewed my delicious fancy cider, mulling it with cinnamon sticks and apple slices, half an orange, and a cup of cranberries. People certainly seemed to like it. There were chocolate filled crepes and coconut-crusted cake, lox, cream cheese and bagles, pasta salad and homemade lemonade, white wine and champagne. Conversation was fast and furious and the heat in Anne's appartment had to be turned right off in order to keep it a bearable temperature. I enjoyed it greatly, and really liked Celeste. A strange, and somewhat surprising perk, was Mike Wood, an old friend from Northern. He's still the same old Mike, except he's older and able to talk about more than just video games and geek things. He was -interesting- and by the end of the evening, I found myself giving him my phone number and email. Weird. I felt a little weird not helping Anne with the post-party clean-up, but since I'd arrived early and helped set up, including mopping the floor, I didn't think I could hang on much longer. I'd also played the role of semi-hostess, retrieving drinks and finding plates and glasses for people all evening long.

Tomorrow, I'm going to set a court date for my parking ticket, which is irritating. I'd intended to do it today, before going to paint my appartment, but frankly, I needed a chance to sleep in. I'm going to take shmutzi-clothes to wear while I'm painting, and I'll just leave them there for next time. I'm going for sushi with Rick after he's finished work and then he's coming back here tonight. I miss him. I have the distinct need to hug him. Right now. Anyway, that's for later. I'm going to the Petes as of tomorrow following Heretic, and then I'm staying at Mom's until Sunday morning. I have to do some more editing for Eric - he's got me doing his articles now. The money will be nice, though, so I won't complain and I've put it off long enough. Whoo, look, I'm procrastinating, painting doesn't sound as much fun now as it did earlier.

Bah, today is a day for opening three days worth of mail, which has accumulated in great heaps. My fingers bear the scars of a hard morning of battle with paper, though I've managed to avoid bleeding on the renewal forms. I actually like opening the mail. It means that I can surf while I do it. For instance, I have now caught up on Tanya's weblog, which is being hosted on Trurl. She's a fancy fun girl.

Other than peering into Tanya's life, I spent a good deal of time looking at employment opportunities at various companies and coursed through massive lists of jobs I would never want on job search pages. It's starting to bother me that I am not doing anything creative with the skills I've learned and the talants I've got. Masque-making last night with Nicole and Mark was a positive step and things are going very well, but it makes me itch to do fun creative things with my life, rather than as after-school projects.

Speaking of creativity, tonight I'm going to Anne LeDuigou's appartment for an art open-house party. I will be making my fancy cider, which means that I have to drop by a grocery store to buy some cinnamon sticks and a couple of apples for dicing up into the pot. Some old friends from highschool will be there, plus many people I don't know, so it should be interesting. Anne gets to talk about art, which is something she excells at, and I'll get to listen and play point-counter-point with her, which is something I am very good at. Discussing art with Anne is compelling, entertaining, and incredibly intelligent.

Another Monday... another day at the ROM. It isn't all bad, though, since the Evil One is away on vacation. For the whole week ! That's right, I can check my email, go to the bathroom, stretch, or whatever, and it's okay because he's not breathing down my neck waiting for me to fuck up.

Much D&D fun was had on Saturday night, with most of the gang being present, even Bill and Richie. Bill's looking good, and from the right angle, you don't notice his strangely swollen neck. He's a strong lad, and we're all praying he comes through a-okay. *sends love* Anyway, Velkyn, my darling drow assassin got high on dream mist and overdosed. It's rather up in the air now whether she'll survive withdrawl, or not. Heh. She has to live, somehow, because I've played her at two other stages in her life, both sometime in the future from when this campaign is set.

Sunday I had to work at Heretic, as usual, and then I was supposed to go over to Nicole's for more masque making fun. She had double-booked and I didn't feel terribly creative, though, so we rescheduled until tonight. Instead, Nick dropped by the store after he'd finished moving his stuff into our place. We ate dinner at Java - I had THE best grilled cheese sandwich EVER - and then drove up to our appartment. I didn't do a lot of helping, prefering to take pictures of his moving in, and then to make mini-movies of bed-building. When the bed was finished, we both lay on it and then had a bought of wrestling, which looks far more questionable on video than it was. It's cool. I've never had a brother, and Nick sort of fills the void.

This is an exciting month. My friend up at the cottage, Kristina, is due to have her baby (oh my God), and for the first time ever, I would like to actually be there to lend help and support. I won't be, but I'll send happy thoughts for her behalf. It's my mother's birthday on the Ides of March. Naturally I will be there to celebrate that with her, which means I'll have to miss Megan's birthday party on the same day. Then, the following Monday will be the TWO YEAR anniversary of Rick and me ! How exciting is THAT?! Pretty damn exciting, if you ask me. So much fun to be had, that even having to move again won't dampen my spirits.

Well, today there were many hostile drivers. I was crossing a street at one point, not even, as I'd just stepped out of my car (who survived Mark quite nicely) and had not started to walk at all, when this big, loud, white van blared his horn at me. As if I hadn't seen him, or even before, heard him and his unsound muffler, but he didn't even slow down. For the love of all things, he must have been barreling down the street at 60km/h. Does the term 'residential' not mean anything to people? "Was that a kid we just hit back there?" "I dunno, we're going to fast to tell."

I dropped in on Justin at the Blockfuckster to see if he still worked there, and yes, he does. It seems he has been doing work in Montreal, too, with his old boss, which is why he hasn't called me back. I invited him out Monday night, but he's going back to Montreal that day for another two weeks or so. Anyway, I also ran into Megan walking home from the store she works in and drove her home. We crammed as much information as was possible into a ten minute conversation, but we'll see each other over March Break when she's got some time off. It was very nice to walk around in the 'old neighbourhood' today, though, I must say I will have a good time exploring the new area. The weather was just dandy, making for beautiful strolling, and I couldn't help feeling a bit nostalgic about everything.

Last night I was at Derek's house and we ordered Thai food from the Internet. Imagine that ! We're living in the future ! Keen. Anyway, we played some silly video games, including one where you play with controlers that are in the form of electric guitars... quite strange. We watched the final episode of "Read or Die" a very good three part anime, and the stand-alone "Blood: the Last Vampire" which was made by the same people who gave the world Ghost in the Shell. Derek was fairly impressed when I suddenly blurted out, "Ghost in the Shell !" because I'd suddenly been struck by the amazing similarities in style. The stand out of the night, however; was the Japanese film we watched called, Battle Royale. Oh my God.

This was perhaps the most ULTRA VIOLENT film I have EVER seen. Honestly. It's brutal. It's emotionally horrifying, driving the audience to highs and lows that scream manipulation. I found myself laughing and smiling one moment, then open-mouth-shocked, then whispering, "Holy shit, oh my God," and then with tears running down my cheeks. I cried through probably a third of the entire movie, partially from the shock of it, partially from the touching displays of humanity, sometimes because of the beautiful symbolism, and sometimes because of the cruelty of the situation. The part of it that made it the most awful was the fact that the people forced into killing each other were kids - fourteen year olds. It was so good, though horrible and terrifying, that I sort of want to make all my friends, whom I think can stomach it, watch it with me; only I don't want to see it too often, so I have to get everyone together in one go.

I had nightmares last night. I actually cried out in my sleep waking myself up. The last time a movie caused that to happen, I was probably about 12 years old. It was so intense, yet, so amazing. The horror of the violence, the controversy and disturbing humour was akin to what I felt the first time I watched A Clockwork Orange. Only worse. Amazing.

Blink 182 again for me. I wonder if I'm ill, but lately, this juvenile punkpop has been making me bounce. I like to harmonise to it, mostly because it IS punkpop and pretty harmonic girly voices accompanying it is sort of silly. You know?

We had a group meeting with The Evil One today. Group meetings go more smoothly than pairs or solo ventures. He could at least -pretend- to listen to suggestions given by us, though. Geesh. He completely dismissed my knowledge of how the desk opperates, despite my having worked down on the floor for two years. Anyway, what do I know? I'm just a dumb girl.

Mark, Nicole's boyfriend/fiance guy is renting my car from me today. I'm totally paranoid that he's going to crash. I'm stupid, I know. He has a clean driving record and he'll be responsible. But I can't help it. I'm paranoid by nature, or something. I don't share well. He's moving house today, and renting vehicles is bloody expensive, as I would know, so it was hard to say no. It meant that Rick and I had to unload my fancy shelf/drawer sideboard thinger out of Scarlette last night, which after a long day at the store was something I didn't really want to be doing, but Rick was a help. And cornering is much smoother without the whole beast shuckling around in the trunk.

Derek had his birthday on the 27th, so to celebrate, I'm going to his place to watch anime and play video games. Hoowee ! too bad I forgot his card at the appartment.