Okay. Before I talk about the lion king I have something to show you.

Who knew?

Several polyhedra in various materials with similar symbols are known from the Roman period. Modern scholarship has not yet established the game for which these dice were used.

I can think of a few. *laugh* The world is cool.

Anyway, The Lion King was what I was expecting, only much, MUCH more engrossing and far more complex than I would have guessed. It was spectacular. The last time I left a musical feeling as totally blown away was when I saw The Life with Megan in New York. And before that, Phantom when I was twelve. It was extraordinary. The costumes and puppets (which were basically one and the same) were so imaginative and whimsical. The elephant... OH MAN. The opening sequence was so fantastic, I almost cried. And Rafiki... the woman who played Rafiki is South African, and at least half of her lines were in a S. African dialect full of clicks and whistles. She was brilliant. I am very, very glad that I finally got a chance to see it. It was worth the wait. And it was also very nice to see it with Rick. Our seats were very good, to the side, but in proper chairs that we could move, so it kind of felt like we were in a box, and to make it even more appealing, the second act was opened with dancers among the audience, including right next to us. Keen !

Painting faces at the ROM was fun. It wasn't as busy as I imagined it would be, nothing like the last time where it was literally non-stop children for four hours. I had enough time yesterday between kids to take up the challenge and create a giraffe paper-bag-puppet. I even gave her a purple tongue with which she can lick her nostril. I was apparently a huge success with the kids, parents were thanking me profusely, taking my picture with their kids, and telling Richard (my boss) how wonderful I am. Validation is always nice, even if it is in a line of work one has no interest in.

So, anyway, I remembered the other thing that has to happen on Monday. My new landlord takes over. The house was sold, they want us to stay on (big sigh of relief), have moved into the lower part, and we have yet to meet them. It kind of sucks that I'll get to say, "Hi, I'm Maya, I can't actually pay you until mid-month, I hope that's not a problem." Heh, ya, right. Anyway, maybe with someone living downstairs again, and they being in control of the thermostat, we'll get some decent heat in the apartment. Or, maybe I'll just go ahead and bring my space heater back from Peterborough. It turns out that the swearing-in is actually on Tuesday, or the one open to the public, at any rate. A---- says it's some kind of party, so that might be fun. Instead, Carrie and I will continue our quest for pants and perhaps some Christmas gifts. So, that's my new Monday plan.

Friday caused a migraine. Okay, maybe it wasn't Friday's fault, perhaps the weather is to blame, but regardless, I woke up this morning and called into the ROM to say I'd be in later. Then I called in later to say that I wouldn't be able to come in. I should have known last night when I couldn't fall asleep that a migraine was on the way. Stew was home and settled into bed before I actually fell asleep. I worked, read, wandered about, watched television, read, lay in bed, but did not sleep. The upside to it, though in the grand scheme of things, it wasn't the best upside ever, was that Willi spent most of the day under the covers with me. At one point, probably around a quarter after two, Tobe came in and did her typical "hi, hi? Oh. Hi?" meow and was horrified when the blankets started to growl. Poor Tobe backed out of my room in fear. Go, Willi !

I was going to make salmon steaks for dinner tonight, but hopefully, since they were frozen, they'll last in the fridge until Sunday night. I ended up eating a frozen dinner because I just couldn't bring myself to actually cook. Not really feeling up to doing anything that involved thinking, either, I decided to get a start on my dough ornaments. This is a project I'll be doing with Sierra. I have to go out and get some craft paints, though maybe my tempra paints will be good enough. She and I will paint them, hopefully this Wednesday afternoon. It was a project that I fondly remember doing with Mom when I was about five years old and the decorations still hang on our tree every year. I hope Sierra will enjoy it as much. Of course, she'll get to keep a bunch of them for her own tree and I'll keep some for ours here in Toronto. I will also probably make a bunch to give to people as presents, since I'm really not feeling wealthy enough to buy things.

Rick and I are going to see Lion King tomorrow night. This would be the fulfilment of a promise first made something like two and a half years ago. It's going to be a little awkward, I think, considering where we're at, but I really want to see it and I only really want to see it with him. It's a bit of a shame that Scarlette has passed on, as I hate wearing evening dress on the TTC, but what can you do? Maybe I'll spring for a cab home. Anyway, I'm excited and nervous at the same time.

I have a lot of work hours over the Christmas holidays. This is good. They're mostly short shifts, which is not so good, but eventually, they do add up. I'll be home for the important days, but there will be quite a bit of back and forth between Toronto and Peterborough, as always. There is at least one day I'm working where I'll earn holiday pay, as well, so that will be nice. I'm hoping that I'll get the money I'm owed for other things in the near future, though, as rent is due on Monday.

Speaking of Monday, two things are happening that are both very exciting. After all the election stuff, Monday is finally the swearing-in. I will be there, of course, but I have a nasty feeling that it's going to be taking place nice and early in the day. Also...

I can't remember what the other thing was. I guess that means it is time to quit for the night. I shall check on my dough ornaments and have a shower, then I shall hie me to bed.

Back in Toronto and struggling to finish a project for A---- that I started months ago... I have to get it to the printer sometime in the very near future but changes keep being made and it's starting to annoy me. Of course, as I have learned, the more changes that are made the more hours I log and that means more money to be made. Sometimes, this basic rule fails, for instance, when clients leave my invoices in oubliettes. Stupid freelance work.

Work that is supposed to pay but doesn't is not good work. Let this me a rule.

Mom and I drove into Toronto together, Willi boxed in the back seat, a bag of goodies for Stew and myself, clean clothing, and an artificial Christmas tree jammed into Bernadette's broken trunk. Bernadette is Mom's Subaru, who is suffering from rear locking mechanism constipation or something and simply won't open. Anyway, the drive was miserable in the rain, fog, and roadrain (kick-up from other vehicles), which meant I had to stick to or under the speed limit. Anyone who knows me knows that I like to add a little haste to my driving. We picked up take-out dinners from St. Hubert for us and Stew and took them back to my place for num-nums. Stew was pleased and it was generally a very tasty dinner. Mom and I then went down to Book City to see what delicious bargains they had going on. It was not as successful as it has been in the past, what with fewer artbooks on sale, but since the sales change all the time, it's sometimes kind of hit or miss.

I picked up a book for me ("Mort" by Terry Pratchett - I'm getting very good at reading his books utterly out of order) and put together a fairly substantive literary list for those inclined to buy me books. There are a couple of de Lint books that I hadn't seen before and a new Volsky book. I rather like Paula Volsky. I read her first book, "Illusion", God, back in grade eleven or something and enjoyed it. I think I've read all of her books since that except this new one. She's got a very firm style and I can't really imagine her breaking away from it, but she gets you in all sorts of places. I suspect she might be read by women, mostly, but it's neither sentimental nor feminist, I think it's just the way she writes. Anyway, Book City is a fantastic place to go when you don't want to think about other things, unless of course money is one of those things and therefore you can't afford any of the books.

Tonight is a night for distraction. I think I might just go to bed early and start my book, though I have been meaning to read another for quite a bit of time. Oh Hell, it's waited this long, it can wait longer.

Oh, and before I forget, it is very important that I say this, because it is a BIG deal. I began an art project at Mom's last week, or so, of a female figural sculpture, and this week, yesterday, in fact, I finished her ! With some very helpful, if unwanted critiquing from my mother, I changed her proportions and she looks great. Once, I might have gotten pissed off at Mom for uninvited comments and simply given up on the piece, but this time I listened and she was right. And, more importantly, when she balked at my suggestion of polychroming my little figure (that's painting a sculpture, for those who don't know), I did it any way, took that tiny risk and it WORKED ! Even my mother had to admit some surprise and a bit of relief. All the sculpture needs now is some whimsical hair and she'll be done, though effectively, she's already finished. Exciting !

I saw, yesterday, that Hasbro has brought back My Little Pony. I was excited, at first, as these were my favourite toys throughout my childhood, until I took a closer look at them. In general, they remain fairly true to the original, except they've made their eyes bigger (and have cheesey heart highlights in them) and they simply look cheap. The seam around the neck where the head attaches to the body looks BAD. And they're made of cheap-looking plastic, too. Yet another reissue from my past that does not stand up to the original. It makes me love my collection all the more and wish I could put it out on display.

These last few days in Peterborough have been nice, but too short. I've been doing a lot of thinking out here. Discussing and re-evaluating my life. I have no focus. I am deeply driven to succeed, I think it's called ambition, but with no real focus for my energy. I waft from one project to the next, always short-term, low commitment. To take risks is necessary and, yet I cannot bring myself to take the ones that might propell me forward. I am selfish. I get by on intelligence and sheer luck and with the help of friends and family, but what can I really say that I've accomplished? I'm twenty-six and utterly lost.

One of the people I love the most has been transplanted out of my life and that is of my own doing. Was it the right decision? I don't know. I desire stability and security, and at the same time avoid these things, calling it independence, but knowing that at least a part of it is fear. The question, 'which risk is the right one to take?' plagues me. Do I leave? Should I go back to school? Wouldn't that just be another way to avoid real life? I don't know, I doubt that I am actually living 'real' life.

Art is central to my existence. I want desperately to be able to exercise my creativity, to live by it, but I have nothing to fall back on should I fail, and so I struggle with part-time jobs to keep myself afloat and maybe to keep myself spread thinly so that I never have to risk failure. I hate failure, and at the same time, rarely have I truly attempted to succeed. How does one break out of this pattern of mediocrity? I need more time to think. At the same time, I need to work so that I can afford to keep living. Is there a balance, or do I just struggle on as I am and hope that something falls out of the luck tree and into my hands?

Where are the answers to my questions? How the Hell do I find them?

I am about to do something I've never done, personally, but have watched being done many, many times. I am going to put a new stick of RAM (supplied by Rick) into my mother's computer. I think I've come up with a name for her computer, Gaelin. I'm not sure why I want to call it (him) that, but it just now popped into my head and who am I to argue? Anyway, with some luck, I will not be Gaelin's downfall.

Scarlette has gone. She's taking the bright, white tow-truck to the stars, heading for station wagon heaven. Everything has been cleaned out and is waiting for me to sort through it in the garage. I cried again, last night. It's another symbol of growing up and moving on from one stage of life to another. It's kind of like when I stopped going to Rocky Horror when all the cast-members that I knew were retiring. I haven't been back since, but I do miss it. I definitely miss Scarlette. It's not that I mind riding the bus to the Petes, it's an opportunity to read and snooze, or that I -have- to take the TTC anywhere I go in Toronto, or even that I no longer have any choice in the matter. It's nostalgia and fourteen years of my life spent in just that one car. As Tracy said over the summer as we belted ourselves into her, "MMmm, smells just like how Maya's car should smell." And she meant that in a good way. And it's the only car she's ever known us to have. Good bye, Mistress Scarlette, you were the best car, ever.

In other news, I went to A&C's on Sunday and ended up spending the night. Pepper, their cat, was very excited to have a new bed-buddy and A&C were happy to not have Pep waking them at five in the morning. We watched The Two Towers extended version and I liked it much better than I had the theatrical release. I was disappointed that there still wasn't enough Ent, though there was some excellent poetry recited and there was slightly more Entmoot. Also, Eowyn (is that how it's spelled?) was far better developed with less mooning after Aragorn. I was inspired to dream about becoming a stunt rider again, but only for the briefest times as the horses shone on screen.

Carrie, having the day off on Monday, and I went to Yorkdale in the nearly fruitless quest of finding pants for her. Apparently, we are both very a-typically built. It spawned some thought of creating a store that focuses on women of 'weird' design. I also learned just how much weight I really have gained in the last year and it's quite horrifying. I am afraid that some of this is due to my lifestyle, but I think it's safe to say that it is also an effect of two prescriptions that I take. I knew that weight gain could be a significant symptom and was warned that it might be dramatic. Well, it's dramatic. I'm not sure what to do about the meds. I would rather not stop using them as they have been otherwise very beneficial to my well-being.

Anyway, quite amazingly, I still feel some pain from dancing like a maniac on Saturday night. In my elbows, of all places. I really must get out and go dancing more often. Nicole and I, following our dancemania, both agreed that we needed to get out and doing things more often. Not necessarily together, but just out and having a life again. Like dancing. It's just something I think I'm going to have to do for myself because I need it.

Tonight I am supposed to go dancing with Nicole - there's a Depeche Mode tribute tonight at the Reverb - only she's at Ritual tonight in Hamilton and because her home number is pooched, I can't get in touch with her to work out a meeting place or time. I suppose that I'll just go to the club around 10:30pm and hope to meet her there. I tried calling her at the store today, but she wasn't in, no doubt preparing for Ritual. Oh well. It a bunch of Depeche Mode fans - it's not like I'll be alone even if I don't go with anyone.

Last night, I went to dinner and a movie with Rick. It was nice, laid back and natural. We ate at Tortilla Flats down on Queen before going to the Paramount to see The Matrix: Revolutions. Dinner was very satifying. I had my usual, chicken quesadillas with a side of guacamole, while Rick had the enchiladas. We split a calamari appetiser and shared some deep-fried ice cream as well. It was very tasty. We went to Chapters to kill some time before the film and I was VERY good about not buying anything. The flick was being shown on the IMAX screen, which was nice, since it has such nice clarity of detail and excellent sound. I went in with an open mind, I figured Revolutions couldn't possibly be as bad as Reloaded was. I was right. I thoroughly enjoyed the concluding episode of the trilogy, but I could have easily seen the whole thing be a two film series, rather than three. I found the likely unintentional Christian symbolism very amusing. Sure, some of it was intended; however, I am fairly certain that some of it was deemed to look 'right' or 'cool' and the artistic directers never even noticed that all this imagery looked right because it had a long history in visual iconography. See? My Art History degree IS useful.

Anyway, following the movie, we took a long walk along Queen and stopped for a quick drink at The Ancient. Rick said, as we walked up from the Paramount, "it's over, isn't it?" My answer was simple, but not lacking in reflection. I said that it was. I really have gone and thought about things and I just don't want to be in a relationship right now. Nothing has changed from before, I still love Rick, I still enjoy his company. If anything, I have come to respect him more and certainly did not take his company for granted. That was the reason for the long walk. We needed to talk. I cried, of course, but I am so impressed by his maturity through all this. If anything, he has shown himself more mature than me. All this and he's four days into quitting smoking, too. It seems my needing time to think about things also has allowed him to re-evaluate himself as well. I am very proud of him and know that he will succeed.

In other news, there isn't much other news. I'm finishing up some projects begun a long time ago and generally taking it easy. I'm trying to think of what to wear tonight. It's not supposed to be cold, so I might consider a skirt, but I much prefer dancing in pants. I'd like to wear my cute pink pvc tie, but I don't know that I've got a shirt here with which it will match. Damn those impulse purchases. I get a discount to the cover charge if I wear something DM related, though, so I guess I'll wear one of my shirts. I'm not really in the mood right now, but I'll probably change that with some carefully selected albums played before I go.

My mother's computer is unacceptably slow. It defeats the purpose of using windows when there isn't enough to keep more than one large program running at once. I'm trying to work with Photoshop and nothing is functioning at anything close to an acceptable slowness. Well, I guess I know what I'm getting Mom for Hanukkah: RAM. I just don't know if I can handle working from her house at this rate. Perhaps Hanukkah will come early this year. It's five days earlier than Christmas this year. I get kind of irritated when they come together, for as many know, mine is a multifaith house and though Hanukkah is by no means comparable in importance to Christmas, I really hate that the former gets swallowed up by the ta-dum of the latter.

Anyway, no further news about Scarlette. The garage hasn't called us back about having her wrecked yet. I'm not looking forward to it. Tomorrow, before I come back to Toronto - *gasp* on the Greyhound - I will visit the garage and take out the things that need removing. I wonder if the window clings will come off without leaving their images behind on the glass. You have no idea how upset I am over all this. A---- didn't believe me when I told him that I cried when I got the news. You know, it's not so much the fact that I'm forced to take the transit everywhere I go now, or that I have to take the *gasp* Greyhound, or even that at least Scarlette provided me with an alternate option to most transportational needs. It is about her. I love my car. I wanted to drive her until I turned thirty. I used to joke that I inteded to drive her until she started to appreciate in value again.

So, I'd write happy knews about Tootles the mouse, only after the brutal night that was suffered at the paws of cats (Willi facters significantly here), or at least the horrors of having a night of harrassment that nearly had the cage on the floor, he suffered what we think was a stroke. I'm very sorry to have had this happen. I really liked Tootles. I know that for a while, the food was a favourite. He might never have tasted broccoli, lettuce, cheese, or apple. Moral of the story? Keep single-minded, annoying clever cats away from rodents in cages. So, now there's a cage with all the fixings and no mouse. I'm trying to persuade my mother that feeder mice are VERY cheap and while not as fluffy and adorable as Tootles was, they will at least fill a void. The question remains, though, where to put the cage where specifically Willi cannot get it.

Okay, on a positive note, I have been doing some art. I'm working on a new Sculpy clay figure. She's shaping up nicely and I have grand plans for her. She's already way ahead of the last figure I did several months back. I plan to make her a little outfit and paint her and give her hair. It's just another way to channel creative energies. And ultimately, it's more enjoyable than fighting with Mom's computer. Also, I thought I'd mention, I have an Elle-Jay now, for less insightful commentary - and where people can leave their own comments. Hah.

Today has been a day of mixed emotions. For the bad news, which is really more life affecting than the good news, Scarlette has died. The good news is that my mother and I brought a new pet into our lives, Tootles the mouse.

For almost fifteen years, our beloved Subaru has speedily rolled the highways of Ontario, Quebec and New York State, providing us an enjoyable, secure, very manual ride. Only in the last year has she suffered the effects of age and giving me a little more grief than I was accustomed to. I came of age in this car. I learned to drive at her wheel. I've gotten her stuck places, gotten in trouble in her... My first (and, so far, only,) speeding ticket was had on the 115 to Peterborough on one of those hills where you just don't see it coming. I think I'd been doing about 40 over the limit at the time. Right up at the end, driving along the 401 last night, I was doing about 135 in the left hand lane through Whitby when she politely informed me that something was wrong with a bad smell and the heater going dead. I knew at the side of the road, even before the tow-truck driver arrived, this time was different. There was an appology in the way she died, still with enough kick in her battery to provide me with music while I waited.

Today, when the garage called and said that she was going to need a major repair, the mechanic suggesting to my mom that it probably wasn't worth it, I wasn't surprised. He wished this had happened before I had her outfitted with new tires, and I have to agree there, but it had to happen sooner or later. In my two years and a bit of having her all to myself, I became even more attached. Everyone that knows me knows I love my Scarlette. It's not surprising that I cried. I love my car. She has become an extension of me. I drove her to the barn and back so that she reeked for years of horses. I packed her up full for trips to and from the cottage. Only last week I was loading and unloading hundreds of stakes and signs following the election. In fact, I was planning to touch up her rust spots with paint and vaccuum her out sometime this week.

I only wish she were small enough to be burried in the garden like Placi was. I love my car.

So, on now to the happier news, albeit news of much smaller stature. Tootles the mouse entered our lives when Mom went down into the furnace room to prepare it for a visit by the furnace man. This small ball of fur with a short fieldmouse tail came tootling (hence the name) right up to her. When the furnace man arrived, the mouse was still darting about, obviously trapped in the room. It probably got in through the fieldstone foundation and slid down the sheer concrete walls, unable to climb back out. The furnace man, apparently unable to work with a loose mouse in the room with him, covered the tame little thing with a bucket. When he and Mom were settling up after he'd finished his job, he jokingly said, "Well, now all you have to do is put it in a cage and start feeding it."

Our intention had been to put it out in the back compost heap where there would be tasty things to eat all winter and lots of warm shelter (yes, it really is THAT cute a mouse). We certainly weren't interested in killing it. Then I said as Mom and I discussed how to procede with Operation Mouse, "It's nice. We'll put it out and then Chester can eat it." Moments later, Mom had left, heading straight for the pet store in order to buy a small rodent cage. I watched the mouse in the bucket as it enjoyed the muslix we'd provided for it and as soon as Mom returned with the cage, we set about making a home for the little thing.

It has died and gone to heaven, at least metaphorically. I has alternated in sleeping in its food dish, eating its food, tootling about the cage exploring everything, and scratching itself on top of its little wooden house. Willi is utterly spellbound by Tootles and has approached the cage from many angles including sitting down upon it. Tootles, for its part (we haven't sexed it yet) pays Willi almost no heed whatsoever and even deigns to fall asleep right in front of Willi's nose. So, anyway, Tootles the mouse is a lovely addition to my mother's house, where it will remain and hopefully live out a long and mousy life full of seeds, clean shavings, and security.

Yesterday, I went to the Royal without the free tickets that might have been supplied by someone if only I knew who that would be. Anyway, I met Rick at Bathurst Station and we took the Red Rocket down to the CNE. Rick very generously paid for my ticket and much of the food I ate, since I'm rather light on cash at the moment. I'm waiting for some cheques to come in the near future, but boy, the waiting sucks. Anyway, I did not spend as much time as I usually do pulling on the lips of the draught horses and it might be why I didn't feel too depressed at the end. I only molested a couple of horses, who were MOST co-operative about the whole thing, spending more time watching some Belgians prepare for a six-horse hitch competition. We also watched a demonstration of the Paso Fino horse and the cavalcade of dogs, which included a most humourous doggie obstacle course. Mom would have been very pleased, her favourite breed of dog (Nova Scotia Duck Toller) did very well. I spent a lot of time enjoying the goats and poulty/fowl and we did a lot of wandering through the antiques market.

I was eyeing some nice examples of early Canadiana at one booth, but rather than help me, the booth owner decided to hit up an older couple who weren't really looking that closely at his stuff. You see, while he might have actually made a contact with me, because I was dressed in a tatty leather jacket and hooded sweatshirt rather than expensive knit co-ordinates and pressed slacks, he got no where with the couple. They humoured him and went on their way. Meanwhile, I was pulling out drawers and checking veneers. By the time it dawned on him that I was actually interested in what he had, I was no longer interested in his wares. I hate antiques dealers. We did spend a lot of time looking at the used books, too. Rick found one example from the late 1800s that had the original bookmark in it. The bookmark had likely not been moved in many decades because it had completely discoloured the pages around it. Also, I found a map dated to the mid-to-late 1500s. It was of Bohemia (modern Czech Republic), but if it had been of the Low Countries or England I might have been seriously disappointed that I couldn't afford it.

Rick and I did enjoy the food, naturally. A big hit every year is the perogies/cabbage rolls stand. They're just so darn good. Also, he had the lamb-on-a-bun while I tried the bbq'd sirloin beef-on-a-bun. Very beefy ! We finished up with apple dumplings baked fresh and prepared before your eyes. They came with ice cream and were very delicious. Of course, there were also beer nuts as we walked about. It was a very pleasant day spent with Rick, who I don't spend a lot of time with these days. Of course, that has a lot to do with the election that has now ended, but also because of other things. Anyway, it was really nice.

In other news, I have been doing some thinking. The other day, Stew said, "I have a brief story and a question for you." This is the story. I'm fairly certain you can guess the question. I am sorely tempted to say yes, but I have a couple very good reasons why I think no is the better answer. First of all, there are two cats already living in this apartment. Two very demanding cats. There isn't really the room for a third, even if she is going to be small. Willi and Tobe have only recently started to get along and I'm not comfortable bringing in a third cat just when everything is going so well. Is Stew willing to foot the bill for two cats to have their shots every year? I insist on keeping cats up-to-date, especially since both Willi and Tobe have escaped into the outside where they could encounter other creatures. Beyond this, the kitten is utterly adoptable. She will make someone else a lovely pet, I'm fairly sure. As much as I would like a kitten, I just don't think it's a good idea. *sigh* Stew may hate me forever.

On the plus side of things, I did some dishes today, so that ought to make him a little happy.

My dastardly, bastardly, poopoo-headed roommate, Stew, who otherwise has been a very successful addition to my life, has done something SO HEINOUS that he deserves severe and frequent mocking. And shunning.

He erased a phone message in which someone was offering me three, yes, THREE, tickets to the Royal. THREE ! Not only has he gotten the name of said person wrong, but he then ERASED the message, assured in his spectacular memory. WHICH FAILED !!!

It also doesn't help that said caller DID NOT LEAVE THEIR PHONE NUMBER !

*kicks Stew*

So, if you still have those tickets and want to give them to me, I was planning on going tomorrow. CALL ME AGAIN !

And the moral of the story is, always leave your number, just in case, and if it's actually an important message... DO NOT ERASE IT !

Bastard.

Things worth mentioning that I haven't gotten around to mentioning.

First of all, and, aside from the election, this is the most exciting thing that's taken place; Rick shaved off his hair. Holy cow, it's all gone, and it is SUCH an improvement. All this time, I never quite managed to come out and say, "Rick, I can't stand your hair," but now that it's gone, I have expressed my great enthusiasm. Hurray ! And, Rick's given me the go-ahead to help him create a new look. I'm so pleased, you have no idea.

Also, despite the election craziness, I somehow managed to find the time to finish two books and read another from beginning to end. I finished The Return of the King, minus the appendix bumpf at the back. Also, I finally completed the impressive history of the Medici family that I bought in Detroit. And, between the two, I picked up Oscar Wilde's The Picture of Dorian Gray, which was absolutely terrific. I'd seen the black and white film version when I was much younger and remembered liking it and the book was as good and better. With the exception of the class distinctions and lifestyles of the latter half of the nineteenth century, it is fairly timeless. It is as relevant today as it was when it was written. It is also quite amazing that Wilde took great criticism and caused an uproar for the homosexual undertones of the novella. It's really quite tame by modern standards.

Yesterday saw much of Ontario receiving its first snowfall of the season. While it didn't last on the ground in either Toronto (from what I understand) or Peterborough, it certainly piled up in other regions. It makes me happy. I love snow. There were gale-force winds accompanying it, of course, which caused massive power outages all over the place due to falling trees. Willi insisted on going out in the messy weather (since she has garden privaleges at Mom's) and the wind had her terribly excited. She bounded all about in the near dark, crashing through leaves and scrabbling up the mountain ash. Things would have been near perfect had I come out to play as well, however; not nearly as impervious to the weather as Willi apparently is, I declined and eventually she got lonely and came in.

God, that was exciting, wasn't it?

...

It's over. What do you do when it's all over? I'm going into the office later in order to find out the answer to that question. Will there be a job? Will there be something... or is it just tear-down the office and get on with whatever you'd been doing when everything started? It's daunting. It's scary. It's also sad.

Not sad because we won. Yes, we won, and it is sweet. It is sad because it's over.

So, like I said, we won. It was terrifying watching the results tick ever upwards on the television at the bar. One hundred votes separating isn't nearly enough spread to keep a person breathing steadily. It didn't help that City TV kept mussing up the order of ward results, but each time we saw Ward 18, the spread was just a tiny bit greater. Other wards were called at 52%, but ours wasn't called until much later because it was so close. In the end, we took it by a few hundred votes, but it was enough. And it was so sweet. I almost passed out when the checkmark appeared next to A----'s name and then when he arrived about a half hour later, we hugged each other so hard and kissed each other and I started to cry. It was okay, because he was crying too.

I turned to K--- and she let me bawl all over her. It was amazing. I cannot begin to describe the feelings I had last night. Elation? Perhaps. Exhileration? Some of that, sure. Inebriation? Definitely.

And now... What happens next?

So much going on... no time to write !


Discworld: Which Ankh-Morpork City Watch Character are YOU?
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Monday, November 10th is ELECTION DAY across Ontario.

DON'T FORGET TO VOTE. Municipal elections have the most direct effect on people's lives.

So VOTE !!!

VOTE !!!

Holy crap am I busy ! If you see something swirling by you at a high speed, it might be me trying to have a social moment. I've done so many neat things this week that trying to fit them into a single post would be nearly impossible. I finally saw the classic silent film Nosferatu at the ROM last Friday in honour of Hallowe'en. I went with four of my ROM girls after we finished our shifts and then went for drinks after. It was a nice break, having the night off and all. Nosferatu was quite enjoyable, especially since it was accompanied by the Toronto Symphonietta and two soloists. Prior to that, I'd gone with Stew to Sierra's house to paint her face and turn her into a vampiress for trick-or-treating. That was enormous fun, though time sort of ran short at the end. Only a six year old (and some more zealous goths) would look at their reflection in a mirror and exclaim at the sight of their white face, dark, shadowed eye make-up, and 'blood' drenched lips, "Oh, I look bee-ooo-tiful !"

I got a couple days off in the Petes as well, which was very necessary as I was about to head into the busiest week of the year. It's the week before Election day and it has been unbelievably busy. Anyway, home cooking and big, deep bathtub aside, I had a very nice time visiting Mom. We saw Whale Rider at the Muse film festival showing on Sunday. Every year, there is one film that really stands out for me. Last year it was The Fast Runner, the year before that it was After Life. This year it is Whale Rider. It was amazing. It cannot be described beyond saying that it is a glorious retelling of an ancient Maori creation legend. GO. GO !!! You will not be disappointed.

Anyway, I have to work at the ROM tomorrow morning so I can't even begin to understand why I'm writing this, but I guess it gives me the moral high ground since I just left a smug comment in Tanya's log. Please don't expect to hear anything from me again until at least Tuesday, but probably more likely later next week than that. I will probably want to avoid the world for a few days once the election is over.