I am going to New York for a few days.

I don't think my mother will mind me remembering Robert with her beautiful letter; our good friend, a son to my mother, a cousin to me, even if not by blood. Robert passed yesterday early in the morning, a life lost too soon, a body losing the battle to a vicious disease.

AIDS truly does touch everyone, somehow.

This is for Robert:

Robert Remembered
September 22, 2003

You were the brightest and funniest of little boys and you brought joy and love into my life those many years ago when I was young and not yet a mother. You lived in the building next door on West 85th Street. Alfred became a close friend and role model for me as a parent because of the love you shared with each other and the respect you had for him. You were a really good kid, so eager to learn, you asked a million questions.

I see you still in your platform sneakers, wobbling along the sidewalk convinced you looked so "cool". You were a mischievous kid too. At a picnic on my terrace, you managed to sit on your hamburger squashing it into your pants. I sent you home for your foolery but we still laughed at the memory of it when we talked some weeks ago in St Vincent's Hospital.

I was moved to tears with your devotion at the Christmas Pageant at Radio City Music Hall. When the Holy family came on stage you knelt and prayed. You really felt the spirit in that pageant, raising it for me from a commercial stage show to a higher plane. You believed in miracles.

When Maya was born we moved to Brooklyn but you and Alfred remained a strong presence in our lives. Thanksgiving, Christmas and other holidays were spent together and you reminded me some weeks ago, of the times you played with Maya and her Smurfs. You patiently let the toddler boss you around. By the time we moved to Canada you had grown into a wonderful, creative and generous teen.

Grow up you did, into a spirited, interesting and intelligent young man: a son to be proud of. You had ambition and talent and you never stopped searching for your place in the world. On our last visit to New York, Alfred and I walked behind you and Maya (both of you dressed the same in the black uniform of nineties cool). Suddenly we realized our kids were adults. You were both deep in conversation with each other, oblivious of us. Laughter would resonate every so often and we, your parents, congratulated each other on a job well done.

Your humour never left you. Even in our last conversation in St Vincent's you made me laugh. I will miss that; I will miss your e-mails; I will miss your Mother's Day phone calls, a tradition Alfred started. I will miss you.
Your life has ended too soon.

But you should know that your life was a great success. Success is not defined by what you have done, but who you have been. Robert you were the best!

I hope God has a good sense of humour. He'll need it with you around.

I know Maya joins me in saying
Love always,
Claire

The title of the spam message read, "Make love like a teen!" and I thought to myself, "God, why? The love teens make ain't nothing like the love made as we mature." I mean, if you're into messy, awkward sex, parents walking in on you, premature ejaculation, not orgasming at all... sure, by all means. But, I think I misunderstood it. They probably just mean fast and often.

Anyway, you will never believe who came into the ROM today. Okay, guess.

If you guessed TIM Sweet Transvestite CURRY, then you'd be right ! Whahahahaha ! And guess which lovely, personable, helpful ROM staffer talked to him in line. Yes, ME ! *squeal*

He came in with a woman I hope is his daughter, because she was about the same age as me, but hey, it's Tim Curry, so maybe it wasn't his daughter... He got in line and me, being the lovely, personable, helpful ROM staffer than I am, sauntered up to the line to do my, "Hi, welcome to the ROM. Is this your first visit?" spiel. He turned and looked at me and I thought, Wow, this guy looks a lot like Tim Curry. He told me that it was his first visit, and with a voice and accent very much like said person and I thought, Oh gee, maybe it IS Tim Curry.

I think at this point the recognition must have showed in my face, even though I behaved exactly as I would with any patron or customer, because when I asked him where he was visiting from he paused and his eyes twinkled just a bit before he said, "Los Angeles." Oh my GAWD, it IS him ! I talked to him a bit about the new and excellent Art Deco show that has just begun its three month run at the museum, wished him a nice visit and day and left him alone. Totally cool, I was, though by the end I'm fairly certain he knew that I knew who he was. This was probably solidified for him when I wandered to the information desk and said to Liz, "Oh my God, Liz, is that slightly portly guy in the line, with the goatee, Tim Curry?" Naturally, as she scanned the crowd, he looked straight at her and her eyes went wide and her mouth opened. Later, she said, "It was totally him. And he knew we were talking about him."

We both thought he'd be taller, but I guess the running around in six-inch platforms can really screw with a person's concept of height.

Oh, I just checked out some sites and apparently he IS here in Toronto shooting a family-geared film under the (working?) title of "Bailey". How odd. You can read a brief bio about him here, if you care. Also, for the record, while I came to love him for his portrayal of Dr. Frank N. Furter in Rocky Horror, I love him even more for rocking the Muppets in Muppet Treasure Island.

So, continuing with the discussion of my adventures at the ROM, I was supposed to have been working there on Friday for the Art Deco members' preview. Unfortunately, due to my rather scattered brain of late (stress, tons of work, emotional turmoil) I utterly forgot. It wasn't like I was out partying, either. I worked from home and then went into the Camp office to do more work. Then I went to meet Nicole for a girl night. It was not until I had gotten home that I thought it would be a good idea to double check my Saturday starting time when I saw that the schedule said I should have been working (not talking like a pirate). I freaked out. In my nearly five years of working at the ROM, I have never skipped a shift without having a genuine reason (being sick, car trouble, blizzard) and calling in to let them go. I ended up going into the museum on Saturday on three hours of sleep because I was so sure I would be in trouble. I was waiting for the lecture from Joane, but it didn't come. It turns out, both Tony and Kevin also missed shifts this month and because I'd never done so before, I was let off with an "it happens".

I did go see Underworld with Nicole, on Friday night, though, but that occured after I would have been done at the museum. It was pretty decent. I give it three-and-a-half stars out of five. It was typical of the genre and, while the comparisons to The Matrix and Blade are fair, it is definitely unique. It lacks the typical pounding soundtrack, for one, which is very cool, letting sound effects and music that you barely notice (or don't notice at all) help build the mood to match the action. It has an unlikely star in Kate Beckinsale and she does a very good job and her co-star is tasty Scott Speedman who also does a darn good job. It was shot in Budapest, I believe, and the city made a fantastic backdrop offering cobbled streets, grimy tunnels and dirty, ancient walk-up apartments. The clothing was actually what drew Nicole and I to see it and we were definitely not disappointed. The costumes were much better than either of the two films it is compared to. Much more velvet and lace, for a start, and deliciously complicated leather coats. Do go see it because it's pretty gripping and not the "Romeo & Juliet" tale we expected.

On a light note before I say what I need to say; Arwen was put on a tour ! This is the first time someone's created a tour and included me in it without the tour being written by me. Heh. There are a couple other new pieces up in my gallery, too, you might want to check out if you haven't already. Also... ARR, it be Talk Like a Pirate Day, me hearties ! Get yerselves a pint o' grog to celebrate.

Things are not going well. While I'm thankfully busy like a bee in the camp office and churning out graphics for a client, the other things, the emotional things, in my life feel like they're falling apart. I asked for a break, but it has become clear that talking hurts and Rick has decided the outcome before I have even half thought about it. I want him to be wrong, but the point of all this is because I don't know and need to put it together. It has only been a couple of weeks and yet these last couple of days have felt like months. I have (had?) all that many women want - comfort, companionship, security, love, respect - so what is my problem? I don't know. I was so pleased because initially, it seemed like we were communicating better than ever, and now we're not communicating at all. Oh my God, it feels awful. I feel shredded. It is exhausting in a way that no sleep can solve.

It hurts so much.

You know you've had a long day at the office when you get home over ten hours after you arrived. And I didn't just surf the web, heck no. When I left, there was still no Internet access. My day wasn't all writing letters, of course. A----- made my life exciting as usual, dragging me off to his parents' house so he could do something while I made up cute and effective signage for the office. "This is a safe. Please do not lock yourself in," for instance. Ya, we have safes/vaults in the office. Damn, it's cool. I mean, not just one safe, no, FOUR. Yeah, baby. We've designated one for crying and one for making out. Well, that's what they have told me, anyway. Boy could it be embarrassing if you mix them up.

I'm currently enjoying Penn and Teller's Magic and Mystery Tour on the CBC. I'm not a big fan of Penn and Teller, usually, because I find them somewhat obnoxious (but less so than David Copperfield - except in interviews). This, however, is quite enjoyable. Today's episode have the duo in China learning of the Chinese magical (and acrobatic) tradition. Seeing these two Vegasites interacting with all walks of Chinese life, especially the rural magicians, is really enjoyable. Teller performed the pin trick (you know, the one where he swallows a hundred pins or something and then a piece of thread, then brings it all back up, every needle threaded) and the village for which he performed was thrilled, disgusted, and all sorts of things in between. Keen. I expected them to be a less respectful than they are, but really, they're behaving in a most responsible sort of way.

Anyway, I think it's about time that I give a Kitty Front update. Looking back, the cats are relating to each other in a much more civil sort of way. This does not mean there isn't hissing and some amount of chasing, but on the whole, they're getting along. In fact, yesterday, when Willi and I returned from the Petes, Tobe greeted Willi with a cordial bum sniff that did not cause Willi to panic. There is chasing, but sometimes it's almost playful. And, most importantly, they can now sit for long periods of time within a few feet of each other and not care. Actually, they can eat in each others' presence now, as well. It's bloody spectacular.

Okay.

Bit of a warning before I go on: If you are a rampant Creationist (or "Creation Scientist") you should probably leave now before the mockery becomes too great. Also, I have to appologise to my friend who is doing mission work in Japan. If he ever reads this, he might come to hate me, which I sincerely hope he won't because he's a good guy. Anyway, I present to you: .OBJECTIVE: Christian Ministries

Some of my favourites include the Creation Science Fair. Because, there's a lot of objective science involved. My favourite, from the Middle School awards: 1st Place: "Life Doesn't Come From Non-Life" ~ Patricia Lewis (grade 8) did an experiment to see if life can evolve from non-life. Patricia placed all the non-living ingredients of life - carbon (a charcoal briquet), purified water, and assorted minerals (a multi-vitamin) - into a sealed glass jar. The jar was left undisturbed, being exposed only to sunlight, for three weeks. (Patricia also prayed to God not to do anything miraculous during the course of the experiment, so as not to disqualify the findings.) No life evolved. This shows that life cannot come from non-life through natural processes.

Another favourite: Hallowe'en Reclamation. How can you reclaim something that was never really yours? They forget it was Pagan first. Here's an excellent example of what you can find out about Hallowe'en Reclaiming, Some of my fellow Christians have questioned whether HalloWitnessing is a good idea. Their main concerns are that some Christians might mistakenly embrace the darkness of Halloween in their attempts to reclaim it. ... "BOO! I'm John the Baptist, and these are my many exciting exploits..."

And, finally, you REALLY must check out their store. If I had money, I'd buy the Mr. Gruff, Grumpy Atheist mug, the Ruby Matrimonial thong (ya, that's right - you can find Ruby on the 4kidz page) and the incredibly offensive Habu the Hindu elephant missionary tote bag. I think I'd buy the tote bag for Aman. He'd appreciate it in a sick sort of way.

I sincerely hope Jesus has a sense of humour. He's going to need one, and a lot of patience, if these folk are actually going to get through the golden gates. I suspect eternity in Purgatory might be good for them... for the type no one quite knows what to do with.

I'm done being offensive now.

Greetings and salutations. I'm still at Mom's a bit longer than I'd anticipated, but isn't that always the way? After so long not having a work schedule, it is much harder than I thought to return to one. So, here I am, but soon I'll be heading for Toronto once more.

Jean left for the cottage, well, for her home out there, not our cottage, and the house is strangely quiet. Mom is subdued, in part because she's finally able to crash since coming back from Quebec, in part because having Jean here was lots of fun, and also in part because she's not at her best. She's having severe ankle problems and has even been prescribed antibiotics to keep the infection at bay. I'm doing a lot of up and down work for her, as in laundry, because she is not comfortable on the basement steps. I want her off her foot as much as possible. While Jean was here, Jean nagged her to stay off her feet, but once I'm gone, I'm afraid my mother's natural tendency will be to start doing things. Maybe not this time, though.

I've picked up some new contracts and commissions, lately, so I'll have my work cut out for me, aside from the work I am already doing for people who will remain nameless and, theoretically, at the ROM as well. I have to start budgeting my time more carefully, now, though if memory serves, I actually get more done when I'm busy than when I have less on my plate. This is what I wanted, right? I wanted contracts. Well, I have one now, it's short notice graphic design work, but it's fairly interesting and good experience.

Tomorrow, I'm going to be in the office all day, which will be exciting. It will be my first day of looking pretty in the office and being useful in an office managerial sort of way. Whee ! Good thing I did my laundry so I will have lots of clean clothing to wear. It's also a good thing that the staff meeting/training I was supposed to attend in the ROM membership department has been postponed to next week. This month is a busy, busy month. This is good, being busy keeps my mind off of other things and reminds me that I am a valuable member of a team. That sounds kind of ... I don't know, but it sounds like something I would never have said before. Ah well, I guess things do change.

I am currently at Mom's. Jean, of the cottage, is here as well having driven down with Mom when it was time to come back to the Petes. Jean is having the time of her life, I must say, experiencing things she hasn't in years. Today, we went to see a French film Man on a Train, which was excellent, but bittersweet, and Jean admitted at the end of the film that she had not been to a theatre in twenty-seven years. That's longer than my life, even. Can you believe it? Beyond that, she has now eaten Middle Eastern food at Mezzetta in Toronto, which she LOVED. As for Toronto? She had not been there since 1954. Amazing. That was pre-skyscrapers. The Royal York Hotel was still the tallest building in the city and dominated the waterfront. Wow. I'll write more later. Now it's time to eat.

Found this in a friend's livejournal. It's totally engrossing. Now it's bedtime.

Last night, not feeling sleepy as I'd woken up at about three in the afternoon, I went back and read some of the first log entries I'd ever written. This stemmed from my searching for mention of After Life, which I guess I must have seen prior to keeping a weblog. I find it funny that I might have had a life prior to Meanderings. On the patio, two nights ago, N---- and R----- asked me whether I updated it every day and how could I come up with so much to talk about. I was thinking about that, too, and it is pretty impressive. Early on in my weblogging experience, I wrote more, but I had more time, I think, even though I was in school at Seneca and working away and whatnot, but I did; I wrote more. I'm not sure I had anything terribly important to say, but I viewed Meanderings as a narrative outreach because I had so little time to actually talk to people. I still think I write well, but I write with much more of a clipped style with shorter entries and more fluff.

Today, my day started around 10:45, which is pretty impressive considering the hour at which I finally fell asleep, but not as early as I had intended to rise. I was going to get some work done at the office before going to meet Wawa at the AGO, but still feeling a bit under the weather, and posessed of the knowledge that I have all day to work in the office tomorrow, I shirked my responsibilities. I really will be in the office all day tomorrow, though, writing letters and listening to music. I might even go in tonight, depending on what time my social calling is done. Anyway, the appartment was being shown again so I had to be awake for the agent. It's quite embarrassing when you forget that strangers will be parading through your home and you're still in bed. Heehee, well, it's embarrassing for them, at any rate. I have managed to avoid climbing back into bed, too, which is impressive. Doing the dishes and tidying my room made good reasons to stay up, and now writing this.

Rick asked me if I would be going to the US Consulate today to mark September Eleventh and I told him that I wouldn't be going. Not because I would not like to commemorate the attacks, but because I do not want to appear to show support for the current US governmental regime. I do not support them, or it, but I do commemorate the victims and heroes of the attack itself. Forgetting is something few will be able to do. So, no, I have no intention of putting flowers or anything at the Consulate. The next time I go there will be in order to find out how to register my vote so that I can do my part to rid the world of the current President. There you have it.

One thing that is quite irritating is that I've left my phone/address book at A----'s house and it is currently burried under heaps of stuff to be moved into the awesome new office space. I can't get at it. Very frustrating. For instance, I was going to call Carrie at work today, but then realised that since I do not have her phone number there memorised, it just wasn't going to happen. I don't know how I managed to leave it, but I've been a real flake for the last month. I wish I could blame it on hormones or something, but I really can't. I have managed to lock my keys in my car, leave the cottage with the canoe key, lock A---- out of his house because I left his keys INside on his desk, AND now I've left my phonebook there as well. In my whole life, I've never been this flakey. Never.

Anyway, mark your calendars, Talk Like a Pirate Day is coming.


You are The Cap'n!

Some men are born great, some achieve greatness and some slit the throats of any man that stands between them and the mantle of power. You never met a man you couldn't eviscerate. Not that mindless violence is the only avenue open to you - but why take an avenue when you have complete freeway access? You are the definitive Man of Action. You are James Bond in a blousy shirt and drawstring-fly pants. Your swash was buckled long ago and you have never been so sure of anything in your life as in your ability to bend everyone to your will. You will call anyone out and cut off their head if they show any sign of taking you on or backing down. You cannot be saddled with tedious underlings, but if one of your lieutenants shows an overly developed sense of ambition he may find more suitable accommodations in Davy Jones' locker. That is, of course, IF you notice him. You tend to be self absorbed - a weakness that may keep you from seeing enemies where they are and imagining them where they are not.

What's Yer Inner Pirate?
brought to you by The Official Talk Like A Pirate Web Site. Arrrrr!

I've spent the day in my nightgown feeling sick. So much for my productive day of work. I had a productive day of sleeping and surfing. I smell like I've been sick. It's that close sort of sweaty smell. Bleh. I must have myself a shower.

One of my favourite films is on the CBC right now, After Life. It's a beautiful Japanese film that is very hard to describe. I was quite sure that I had written of it in my weblog before, but I'm not finding anything when I search for it. It is very unlike anything out of the Western style of film-making and many people cannot grasp it, they think it's slow, or boring... It's neither, but it is different. It is a beautiful film full of emotion and honesty, set in a waystation in the hereafter where people come when they've died. It's lovely that it is on and I have already shed tears even though I came in mid-way and while doing other things.

Anyway, in other news, I helped clean up the new office that we have for the campaign. It's a marvelous space in an old bank. It was filthy, though, and I got there two hours after the cleaning party began, so it must have been utterly disgusting before then. Anyway, I worked up a nice sweat and then we went and sat on a patio, which is quite likely how I'm now sick. Tomorrow, though, I have to be healthy, or at least more functional than I am now.

So, things have been alright. I'm busy enough to avoid thinking about things, but of course, today, not being busy, I've spent a lot of the evening thinking about things. I don't want to talk about it, though. I kind of feel like I'm in a waystation of emotions and when I figure out where I'm at, I can move on from here, where ever that is.

Eep, I've left everyone in the lurch as to my Primerica adventures. I am sorry, but life sort of jumped up and Blogger had a hiccup and anyway, I am NOT the newest Primerica agent afterall. I received an email from a friend-of-a-friend talking about her experience with the company and it was very interesting, but I'd already delivered my spiel to my rep. I did it by phone, mostly because I couldn't be bothered making the trek up to Steeles and Keele yet again. Here's an excerpt from the email I received.

Unless you are ready to start your own business, don't bother. Asides from
the pyramid-ness of it (which is the same way a realtor's office works, in
terms of the agents get a cut, and the owner of that office gets a cut on
their sales), it is a lot of hard work. You will go and see potential
clients who will turn you down when you could make a great difference in
their lives. And if they're family, you get to continually hear how
they're digging themselves deeper. And it will drive you crazy...

Here's a bit from my response:

I do plan on owning my own business, and as a freelancer, I sort of do already,
minus the employees, but there are other ways to learn about how to succeed
without Primerica's pyramidish set-up. Frankly, though, when I was ending my
conversation with my rep today, he asked after, I'd finished explaining why I was
backing out, if I knew any one else who might be interested in joining Primerica.

So there you have it. That last bit is the most telling.

Anyway, I'll catch you up on the other stuff soon enough, but right now, I'm at the ROM.

UPDATE on my Primerica adventures:

So, what I didn't really write about were the doubts that were beginning to blossom at the back of my mind. I said I was weirded out and that it seemed easy. Too easy. I spoke to my mother at great length discussing my doubts with her. She shares them and then added to them. I started to hear the alarm bells ringing much clearer in my head. The representative that I have dealt with IS nice and IS charming, there's no question, and I DO like him, but you know, the whole time I was listening to the information session last night and hearing him talk about how simple it would be to make money while helping all these people... I cannot imagine how I could have missed this, frankly. It was a pitch. Plain and simple. I'm just desperate enough in my financial situation and just hungry enough for a new job that I fell for it. I got pitched. ME. I have never fallen prey to a pitch in my entire life.

Until today. ::insert hideous cackle here::

I got off the phone with Mom and called up Rick. I explained my doubts to him and what I'd discussed with Mom and he, being the good Computer Geek that he is, immediately starts running Primerica through search engines to see what he can come up with. What he read to me over the phone sounded really fishy. I mean REALLY fishy. An image came to mind that I couldn't quite shake. Rick sent me some links, which I will provide, and after reading through a couple of them in their entirety, the image clarrified. Granted, there IS a product and it is a good one, but they make their mission sound a whole lot more noble than it is. That said, some of the questions that Mom and I came up with have been sufficiently answered by what I have now read and I can safely say that this is not something I want a part of.

Tomorrow, I'm making the trek up to Steeles and Keele one more time. I'm supposed to be working out a training schedule with my rep/mentor/trainer (and I do stand by the fact that he's not a bad guy). I'm going into the office armed with my latest questions and I'm going to listen to his answers, which I have no doubt will be vague and/or sugar-side-up. Then, I'm going to offer him my revised answer and appologise for getting his hopes up and wasting our time. Time he could have spent recruiting someone else. I might have been swayed by the pitch, but I'm not stupid. Something else will come up, something worth my time and better, in the long run, and without any outlay of money. Ya. That's right.

For further reading, try this and this.

I am currently reading Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad. It's one of four books in a Dover Thrift Edition set that I own. I've had it for at least three years and yet I've never gotten around to reading any of the books. Other titles in the set are Pride and Prejudice, The Picture of Dorian Gray, and A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man. Naturally, I've started with the shortest of the four texts. At any rate, it makes good (and it -is- good) reading on the bus/subway to and from the Primerica office, the site of my various interviews.

So, it seems I've signed on with them. I'm not sure how to explain this, but I liken it to how I ended up attending UofT. In retrospect, the latter decision taught me a lot but was not terribly wonderful, so hopefully this will be a more adventurous and exciting venture. I'm going in tomorrow, yet again. I am going to set out with my mentor a schedule for training and whatnot. This does lead me to a question that I really must ask, and that's whether any of this training is paid. I suspect it isn't, considering the company is actually paying for my course, training, and licencing. Yes, I'm going to be a licenced financial representative. How weird is that? Anyway, from where I'm sitting, it looks like it will provide me with a good deal of experience outside the Broader Public Service. Yet, I can't help feeling just a little weirded out by all this. It just seems too... I don't know... easy? Maybe.

On an unrelated note, I've got work featured on a videogame fansite. Check it out.

"Willi, that is coffee. You do not drink coffee." She was sneaking up on my mug, I presume because she likes to drink water out of my mugs, and naturally, when she lifted her nose from the brim she stared at me like it was MY fault that it was coffee. Okay, it is, but she knows she's not allowed to drink out of my mugs. Silly cat. On a vaguely related note, did you know that the word cat actually derives from cattus in low Latin (rather than felis, which comes from the high Latin). I just thought I'd edify you with this bit of etymological information.

I'm going to jump right in now and finish up my cottage stories.

Cats, cats, everywhere are cats.
With us, at the cottage, were three cats. Of course, I brought up Willi and Mom brought up Chester and Melody. This made for a lot of cats turning up all over the place, indoors and outside. Chester decided that he was wild again and spent most of his time sleeping outside in depressions in the ground surrounded by blueberry bushes. One was behind the house and another was up on the blueberry rock overlooking the house. Following one night where he and Willi were outside all night long, they both ended up staying close to home. Chester managed to injure the base of his tail, but it was healing nicely by the time I left and now Mom says it's fine. Melody, bless her furry old soul, spent most of her time asleep. At fifteen years of age, she is more than entitled to do so. Willi climbed a lot of trees, hung out on the roof, slid OFF the roof of the covered work table, and came with me on walks in the forest. Amazingly, all three of them came INside to use the litter pan. This, I do not comprehend.

Hummingbirds are evil little birds.
As a friend of ours said, "I don't know how they manage to breed." They seem to hate each other and anything else that they deem to be nasty. I was divebombed, as was my cat despite her utter lack of interest in them, and of course they fight with each other all the time. One, clearly the dominant male, spent the majority of his time perched on a branch near to the hummingbird feeder so that he could chase any other bird away and keep it to himself. In fact, for the first time that I've ever seen, this little male also flicked the ants off the feeder that had been attracted by the sugar water.

Mom had projects.
I don't think I have mentioned these already, but every year, Mom has at least one project. This year the biggy was her cantalevered (sp?) umbrella that she bought off the Shopping Channel. It is enormous. It's so huge that it HAS to be bolted to the deck or else it might blow away and take out a moose in the process. That's big. Another project she had was the building a baseboard along the join between the deck and house. In the process of jacking up the cottage (it sags every few years) the floor seperated slightly from the wall. So, she fixed that. And finally, since returning to Toronto, I have learned that she's been painting the ceiling in the bedroom. Go Mom !

Okay, finally... Bogmen !
Tracy and I had intended for some time to, you may recall, go see The Mysterious Bogpeople at the Museum of Civilisation in Hull (Gatineau, or whatever they're calling it now...). We didn't really have a lot of options for days when we could go see the exhibit, but we were not going to miss it. Anyway, it was a very good exhibition, though I prefer more in-depth text (Tracy, on the other hand, does not). It started with a nice creepy entrance that introduced us to the elements of the display. Passing that, we enter into a chronological walk-through that takes us from 10,000 years ago, into the Neolithic, and finally up until the Middle Ages. It introduced the viewers to the concept of sacrifice with artifacts that had been pulled from the peat before moving into the much more disturbing facts of human sacrifice. Finally, the exhibit ended in an area that demonstrated the science behind the research. Overall, it was a good exhibit that was well tailored to most age groups.

Okay, so those were the cottage stories, or at least a few of them, so now I can return to other things. The interview went really well. Once I got there. Wow. Talk about an adventure. The transit was simple enough, except the bus I was planning to take left as I arrived at Downsview station... and the next one wouldn't be for another half hour. In the middle of the morning?! Whatever. So, I called to say that I was going to be late, but I got the impression that they're a bit used to that. Then, when I got off at Keele and Steeles, I prepared to walk the "one block west". Oh, I walked it, but it had to be the better part of a kilometre long. I forgot that blocks up in the boonies are LONG. None of these reasonable, brief downtown blocks that I'm used to. Anyway, I recovered for a bit when I got to the office and then delivered a truly excellent interview. The interviewer had the style that I prefer, the informal conversation that covers all the requisite questions. Sweet. Anyway, I have to go back there tonight for stage two of the process. This sadly means that I'll be disappointing a six year old, Sierra, on her birthday, but there's nothing I can really do about it.

Anyway, in case there was any doubt about what kind of a person I am, here are some answers. Apparently, I'm a bit of a nerd.


I'm Hermione Granger!!

Witch Harry Potter Girl Are You?
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"99 Red Balloons" (by Nena)
99 Decision Street.
99 ministers meet.
To worry, worry, super-scurry.
Call the troops out in a hurry.
This is what we've waited for.
This is it boys, this is war.
The president is on the line
As 99 red balloons go by.

Which 80's Song Fits You?
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Threat rating: Medium. Your total lack of decent
family values makes you dangerous, but we can
count on some right wing nutter blowing you up
if you become too high profile.

What threat to the Bush administration are you?
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You come from the Middle Ages. Your soul came from
a time when dragons, knights, war and
Princesses ruled the land.

Where Did Your Soul Originate?
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Huh... that last one. Some time, maybe I'll tell you a story about that...

My legs feel like jelly and I'm a ball of sweat. I just walked home from the ROM, or rather, I walked around near the ROM before walking home. All told, I've been walking for about two-and-a-half hours. My gosh do my feet hurt. One thing worth mentioning was a young man I saw while walking home. Probably about the age of twenty, he was a poster boy for ridiculousness. Urban hip-hop style (some would use this word loosely) has undergone some strange evolutions over the last fifteen years or so, but at NO time in that history has it been cool to wear TWO baseball caps. One over the other. I've seen bandanas and dewrags under caps, I've seen caps with tags left on (never understood that one at all), I've seen visors and hoodies, knit caps and stockings, but again, I repeat, I have never seen someone wearing one ball cap over the other. Maybe it helps protect him from Alien mind probes.


"You mock my pain !"
"Life is pain, Highness. Anyone who says otherwise is selling something."

This weekend has been an exercise in pain. Sometimes, for the sake of ourselves, we put our own needs above those of others. In my case, I have put my personal needs above that of the mutual needs of myself and Rick, the unit. Let me be perfectly clear now, I love Rick. He is a huge part of my life and has been for just about three-and-a-half years. For well over half of that period of time, I have been battling depression. I need to remember how to be well again, healthy within myself. Life is full of stress and strain, yours, mine... from time to time we all experience it. The quest of discovering who I am and how I fit into the world takes a lot out of me. I need to do something that I've been meaning to do for a long time and that is to re-evaluate my place, my understanding of Self, of what it means to be me. It is selfish, I suppose, to demand solitude for this, but I cannot be completely sure of things while I am constantly balancing a relationship, even one as stable as what I have with Rick. So, for the time being, I have asked him to forgive me and let me take the time I need for myself. Rick is often surprisingly mature and has accepted this request. His response makes me respect him even more than I already do. Thank you, Rick.

In other news, I had an interesting misadventure yesterday. I went to the Petes with A&C so that I could pick up Scarlette. I was picked up from York Mills station at 10am, where I'd been waiting for half an hour. Unbelievable; at no time have I ever gone anywhere from my house in under half an hour. I live off of the worst rated bus route in Toronto and my other option is the streetcar, which, though reliable, often takes a long time. Fully expecting the trip from my house to York Mills to take an hour, I left just before 9am. I immediately caught the streetcar, followed by connecting right away with the subway. I made the trip in 27 minutes. !!! I digress. We stopped at Carrie's parents' house in Lindsay first, where I was well fed with lasagna and looked at photos of her parents' trip down East. Then I was dropped at Mom's house in Peterborough where I gleefully ran a bath.

Whirlpool done with, I set about tending the garden. I watered plants and moved sprinklers, fed the fish and picked tomatoes. It was very restful hiatus in the emotional rollercoaster ride I'm currently experiencing. Finally, ready to head back to Toronto, I go and turn on Scarlette. Only she doesn't start. Rather than hearing the engine turnover the way it ought, it sort of... wheezed out. Brrrrr-wa-waaa-wheeeeeeeeeze. I tried to start her several times over the next twenty minutes but each time it failed. Once, it sounded like she was about to turn over, only to splutter and sigh. Drat. Next time, I'm taking my car to the cottage, rather than leaving her at Mom's where she'll sit idle in the driveway with nothing but the humidity to twiddle her bits. So, I ended up joining A&C on the way home, too, but any plans I might have had last night were utterly skuttled.

Anyway, there are some stories from the cottage that I have yet to share, but I'll save those for tomorrow. Now I need a nap and then I have to prepare for an interview tomorrow.


Ichi - "That one with wisdom"
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What would your Japanese name be? (female)
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