Time passes - sometimes slowly, sometimes quickly - and inevitably, when you least expect it, it will pass in the manner most irritating to you. Today, it was in the form of the bus. Yes, the Dufferin bus. My nemesis. Yesterday, it was snowing and the traffic was terrible, but I somehow made it to work in under twenty minutes from my arrival at the bus stop to the ROM staff entrance. Today, beautiful and sunny as it is, the roads cleared of snow, traffic moving swiftly, I waited for half an hour. At this point, with no bus in view, I put my hand in the air and hailed a cab. A cab that would cost me most of my first hour's wage. Bloody hell.

I actually began my day after too little sleep, again, and at just past nine in the morning I phoned a certain so-and-so who owes me money. I wanted to make sure that he had received my letter. Unfortunately, either no one was in the office, or they were at meetings, or (and why do I get the feeling this is the likeliest possibility?) they saw my number on call display and sat there saying, "I don't want to get it, you get it..." Anyway, I left a message that will undoubtedly, like all the others, go unanswered.

There are several positions that have opened up in the Visitors Services Dept., both permenant full- and part-time. After all this time, I have finally been convinced that I should apply. My French skills are probably a little below where they ought to be, but not truly terrible, so with some upgrading, or even more practice, things should improve. It's would be very helpful to my finances and a great way to end up before going back to school in the fall. Full time work is my choice, five days a week - it would be with people I know and like - only until the end of the end of the Egyptian exhibit. It would be perfect. And what of the interview I had last week? I don't expect to hear anything about that until tomorrow or Monday, but I just don't think it would give me enough hours. If things remain as they are currently, I'll make more money working the two jobs in Membership than I would working the one plus the education job. While it would be a fun position to have and I think I'd do it well, I'm just not in a place where I have a lot of choice open to me.

Finally, if you ever have to discuss your Bell Telephone account with a customer service representative and the person on the other end identifies themself as "Mrs. Phillips" ask for a different rep. You see, as far as Mrs. Phillips is concerned, you can't just pay some of a bill outstanding, you have to pay all of it. So, since she refused to actually look after me, the customer, instead reminding me that the phone would get cut tomorrow if I didn't pay the entire amount, she told me I had no choice. Hello? I've done this before. There is always choice. That's part of customer service. I asked to speak to her supervisor and she said, "I am Mrs. Phillips. I am a supervisor."

So, I said, "Fine. Presumably, you have a supervisor, too."

"I am a supervisor."

"Perhaps you didn't understand me, I would like to speak to -your- supervisor."

"I am telling you how to procede."

"Look, I don't want to talk to you. Please put me through."

"It's a call-back." Her voice is becoming increasingly acid as we talk.

"Fine have your supervisor call me back. I'm sure I or my roommate will be happy to hear from them."

"What number should they phone?"

"At home."

"Your main line? You aren't calling from there now."

"This is true. I am using a colleague's extension at work because I do not have my own. Call me at home."

"You won't be there."

"It will be fine. This has to be sorted out and you are unwilling to do so."

"Fine. Is there anything else I can do for you?" Sarcasm, now.

"No, you are one of the most rude and least helpful customer service rep I have spoken to."

"I'm sorry, but I'm not rude."

At this point I lost all remaining patience and said, "Whatever you say, Mrs. Phillips, I hope this call was being monitored." Then I hung up.

So, while it's true I won't be home to receive the call, there is not only voicemail where the supervisor can leave his/her name and extension, but there is also Stew, with whom they can leave the same information. It's NOT that hard to be nice and to -try- to be helpful. It really isn't. I know, because I do customer service every day I'm at the ROM. The minute someone wants to escalate to the next level up, I say, "I'm sorry you don't feel I can be of help, but this is how you can reach my supervisor." The end. Out of my hands. Don't argue, honestly.

It seems I am doomed to have 'one of those days'.

Is it Sunday already? Somehow it feels like it should still be the middle of the week. I don't quite know why, but I feel startled to discover that for the majority of people who work regular weeks, it's back-to-work-day only tomorrow. For me it doesn't matter so much, but I am sort of amazed that January is almost over and the milk in my fridge is set to go off in only a matter of a couple of days. On the 28th, the house will turn over to the new owners with whom Stew and I have had fewer than twenty words. They (the future owners, who live below us now) accidentally locked their little kitten out in the foyer (a common problem for the people who used to live below). The kitten is adorable ! It is still tiny, and very fluffy, and at that stage where it really only mews and purrs. I knocked on the neighbours' door and when they opened it I presented them with their kitty. I got more words out of them than ever before: "Thank you, oh thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you !" I smiled and went back upstairs.

Last night, having no plans whatsoever and nothing that needed doing, I rekindled my friendship with Becca, whom I had not spoken to in several months. She's doing well and we had a long, fun conversation. I told her about Scarlette's demise and she reminded me that " all Subarus go to heaven". I envisioned a place full of muddy tracks and dirt roads and snowbanks where hundreds of multi-coloured Subaru four-wheel-drive wagons were low gearing over and through the obstacles... in driverless bliss. I like the image. I can see Scarlette grinding along pitted country roads and having the time of her unlife.

I also watched, finally, Depeche Mode: One Night in Paris, the DVD that Tracy gave me over a year ago. It took this long to watch it because I haven't really had the time or something, but I used Stew's laptop and curled up in my bed. There were some technical difficulties, the dvd drive either having spasms or overheating, or something, and I had to pause the playback every other song. This allowed me to do a lot of talking on the phone, so it was okay and happily, the last six songs played through very smoothly and I was removed to another time, in the company of Tracy, where we saw the same concert here in Toronto. It was lovely. And sexy. I've said it before, I'll say it again, but there is no man on Earth sexier than Dave Gahan. In fact, my biggest complaint was that there wasn't enough of his dancy goodness. Anyway, I went to a very happy place. So, belatedly, thank you, Tracy, your gift is fantastic.

My inner child is ten years old!

The adult world is pretty irrelevant to me. Whether
I'm off on my bicycle (or pony) exploring, lost
in a good book, or giggling with my best
friend, I live in a world apart, one full of
adventure and wonder and other stuff adults
don't understand.


How Old is Your Inner Child?
brought to you by Quizilla

Time for bed. I've had an enormously productive night. In a recent email I waxed about how strange it was, and yet also pleasurable, to have free time. I am currently without contracts, and frankly, this is not necessarily a bad thing. Anyway, I have all this time to putter around, read, play with the cats, snooze (not for a lack of it, but when other ideas fail), draw, write, etc. It feels quite alien to me after all those intense months leading up to the New Year. Extraordinary. Refreshing. Nice.

Tonight, aside from prepping for tom- er, today's interview, which was less practicing questions and more simply thinking about the stuff I'd like to say, I spent a lot of time overhauling parts of my site. I'm having a lot of trouble matching all the pages, as in the old format to the one I adopted last year - it requires a LOT of patience. In the meantime, I do other updating, for instance, my Prints and Commissions page, which I made way less confusing. All the updates can be found in my Portfolio. Ya, I do need to update the old stuff, but while I might have free time, I don't have THAT much of it.

Anyway, go have a look. I think things look much better now that I've fleshed out the graphic design pages. I added some other pieces and now, if I could just get around to scanning the government brochures I did, oh so long ago... Then it would be even better.

I was sitting - yes, I managed to get a seat - on the bus this morning and couldn't help but stare at this one particular advert. It's for Much Music's Big Shiny Tunes 8 and it has the CD sort of resting against the stockinged legs of someone wearing a leather miniskirt. This is all we see. But finally, I realised why the ad bothered me. Bothered isn't the right word, but what was -wrong- with the ad; the thigh in the fishnet stockings is very male. Now I know why each time I glimpse that ad I think of The Rocky Horror Picture Show. And, speaking of stockings, why is it that though the waistband sits just fine, the crotch always heads for the knees? I mean, good grief, the crotch of my pantyhose is nearly as low as the hem of my skirt. No, I'm not cold, by the way, as I'm wearing my trusty leg warmers that are nearly as old as I am. Sure, they don't quite match, but they're toastier than pants, at least when combined with my long coat.

It was very nice to wake up and look outside to see lots of snow flying around. I don't really get tired of fresh snow falling, at least not until mid-March. The effect of lovely quietude and snowy brightness was lessened, however; due to the City trucks that were making a mess of the street outside my house. I enjoyed a slow rise from bed because it's just so snuggly to wake up with Willi pressed up against me. Also, I have put my new Christmas-present bedspread on my bed and it's warm and fleecy. So warm, in fact, that I've taken my old bedspread right off along with the other quilt I used underneath. A sheet, a flannel, and this cover are more than enough, especially with my space heater working. I might not need the space heater anymore, now, though, because I managed to wrestled the outer door of the sliding doors closed. I haven't been able to get it closed before, but I guess the extreme cold caused it to contract enough to un-snag itself. Hurray for fewer draughts.

So, currently, I'm at the ROM being re-trained for the processing of electronic sales and everything was going fine, but now it isn't and none of us can figure out why. I've decided that the system does not love me anymore. There's a joke in there somewhere, "how many staff does it take to trouble shoot one tiny problem?" At least three. Possibly four. Hey, I never said it would be a funny joke. It's like the computer just decided that nothing would be filed where it ought to be, flipped us the bird, and left for lunch. Now that we think we've fixed the problem, it's taking so long to merge the data and export it that I could take my own lunch and still have to wait. So far, I've been waiting over fifteen minutes for this thing to work. This might mean rebooting. I should have gone for lunch. Oh well.

In other news, I have an interview tomorrow for a short-term contract position that will be running for the duration of the Eternal Egypt exhibit that begins at the end of next month. It would be a fun job, I think, doing educational exhibition interpretation for school groups. It might also be for adult tours, as well, I don't recall. Anyway, I think I would really enjoy waxing educational about Egypt. It's been a long-time interest for me. My only concern, since I'd probably have to give up my data entry work, is that there be enough hours to allow me to live off the income. Other than that, I believe it will be a lot of fun. I'm going to prep for the interview tonight and get up at a reasonable time tomorrow morning to allow me lots of space beforehand in which to make a decent breakfast, putter around the house, etc.

I just typed a beautiful entry and with one well placed paw, Willi has destroyed it.

THANKS, Cat.

Let me begin again.

Well, I have done it, I have submitted my application and $65 processing fee (non-refundable) to OCAS so that in September I will hopefully be attending Sir Sanford Fleming's Museum Management and Curator programme. It will take one year of my life and is comprised of a large internship-placement and I probably should have done this a long time ago. I know my mother likes to remind me that she has been suggesting it since before I finished university. Now, for those who remember the early days of my weblog, when I was attending Seneca for computer animation, you'll remember that I did love it there. It was the only schooling experience that I ever enjoyed. Unfortunately, it cost a lot and did not deliver the goods (employment). In fact, with the exception of my enjoyment and the excitement I had during the course, it was pretty much a frivolity I should have avoided. At half the cost and three times the duration, the Fleming programme makes way more sense, not the least for my career path.

There is a down-side, of course, and in attending said programme, I would have to move to Peterborough. I don't think this would be as horrible as I once perceived it to be. For one, I would be able to pursue my hobbies: arts, horseback riding (I hear there's a horse of substantial size just crying out for my attention), nature, etc. Willi would be pleased with the arrangement, too, I think since she so enjoys it at my mother's. And of course, with my mother is where I would live. This is very good - I know lots of people who loathe the idea of going home again - but I do not. I love it at Mom's. And living rent-free is nice, too. Unfortunately, this will mean putting stuff into storage, yet again, and renting a truck, again, but it's all part of the experience, right? My plan would be to continue working part-time on the weekends at the ROM and then stay at Rick's or with A&C, if they'll have me. And, happily, people would also have the opportunity to come out and visit me in the Petes, something everyone seems to enjoy.

Anyway, there was a great deal more to the original post, but it's now quite late and I lack the eloquence to carry on, or the energy for that matter. Suffice it to say, I feel very positive about this, with the exception of spending $65, and I think this marks a very healthy turn for the better.

Though many have heard me gripe and complain about the myriad of things that make me crazy at the ROM, there are at least as many things that keep me working here. Like tonight, for instance, Chinese New Year Celebration. This is probably my very favourite Friday night event and it happens every year. It's so popular that the media covers it. Every year. I don't get to see much of it, being at the front desk, but the Lion Dancers always start in the Rotunda and they're great. This year they are all kids, probably between twelve and fifteen years old and all of them a bunch of hams. They really perform for the audience, taking the Lions up to the spectators while they dance. In fact, this year, we discovered that the rear dancer in each lion controls the tail and they made them wag ! The kids doing the dancing were quite funny, milling around before it was time to perform. They were pulling marshal arts type poses at each other and one of them grabbed a streamered cymbal and put it on his head to add to the effect.

Whoo, here they come again, people are scurrying out of the way !!!

Awesome ! Man are those boys sweaty now. The girls with the cymbals are pretty flushed too. Now people are asking them questions. I just learned that those adorable wagging tails are actually quite heavy, whereas the heads that are lifted way into the air and -look- heavy aren't so much. They're drumming in the Currelly Gallery again, but the lions are just lying, unattended here in the Rotunda. People are posing with them, taking pictures with them, touching them... This is one of the many things that makes working at the ROM a wonderful experience.

In case you ever wondered why I would work here for five years.

Besides, where do you think I get all my amazing stupid-people stories?

If there was any doubt about it, which there isn't, let me assure you that winter is here. And, in the greatest tradition of seasoned bus riders in history, the weather fouled up any plans I might liked to have kept. What should have taken an hour and forty-five minutes, or so, ended up taking nearly four hours thanks to heavy snow and getting lost in Scarborough. I had a terrific bus buddy named Veronica who woke up as we were inching along Ellesmere and I explained that the bus had been unable to get back on the highway after dropping at Scarborough Town Centre. At one point the bus made a u-turn behind a factory in order to simply start moving again. I'm glad I had the foresight to have Rick meet me at the bus terminal rather than at the movie theatre as we'd initially planned, otherwise he'd have been holding two tickets and I would never have made the film. In the end, we crossed the street and enjoyed dinner at Red Lobster. It wasn't what we planned, but it did the job.

Despite having the flu while at Mom's I did make it to see The Heart of Me on Sunday. It is a British film about two sisters and how their lives entwine with that of a man (who is married to one and having an affair with the other). It takes place pre-war mid-1930s and also ten years later. Mom and I couldn't understand why the two women were brought to turmoil by the man as he was particularly bland and lacking in passion. It was a beautiful movie to look at, though, with gorgeous Art Deco clothing and room settings, etc., but overall, even the excellent acting couldn't make it a movie I'd actually recommend seeing.

We also watched, over a period of two nights, Human Cargo, the CBC-Showcase co-production that we'd taped the week before. It was an excellent mini-series of the sort you just don't normally see come out of North America. It was graphic and honest and completely riveting as the audience is introduced the desperation of the immigration and refugee situation in Canada and to what lengths people will go just to have a chance at freedom in Canada. It was very well written and extremely well acted, especially on the part of the women who were really fabulous, multi-layered characters. Kate Nelligan gave the best performance I think I've ever seen her give. This is not a show we mean to tape over, it is simply too good. I think I'll loan it to Rick, who only caught the last two episodes.

Nothing much else to report except that I'm awfully hungry so I'll go and get a snack from the cafeteria.

This morning, I drove into Toronto to work my shift at the ROM and it was such a lovely day, with the exception of my nosehairs freezing between the parking lot and the front entrance. There was an amazing bank of cloud hanging over Lake Ontario, with tendrils of cloud rising up. It must have been an effect of condensation, with fog rising off the water because the air was so much colder. Then all the water crystals just hung there, not really moving. It was like a great, white, fluffy escarpment. Ooooh, I love weather. Even when it's cold. Maybe especially when it is cold. So long as I'm dressed for it. The drive was really easy, the only traffic problems directly over city centre where some stalled cars were stuck in the right hand lanes. In fact, there were a number of stalled cars all the way down Avenue Road to the ROM. I think my final count was five, which made the traffic crawl. Brief entry. Nothing much to report.

Today I took no chances with the weather. I dug out my fuzzy hat, rather than my fedora or beer toque, bundled myself into my old, long wool coat, and quietly grumbled about still not having picked up my long scarf that I'd left at Nocturnalia. I'd go pick it up today, only it's so cold that I don't want to walk down to Queen and Spadina to pick it up. Of course, if I'm going to walk down to the Bus Terminal... We'll see. I might just balk and grab something to eat before taking the subway.

It's very quiet in the Membership office today. Almost everyone is at a meeting of some sort and the other two part-timers just left. There are only about three of us in here now. It's chilly, too. Just once, I would like the ROM to get the heating/cooling system right. We either freeze or bake, and it bears no relation to what it's like outside. The new system, or rather the updated system, we're now using in the office does not make things easier. In fact, it takes three times as long to enter a new member into the database than it did before. How is that more efficient? It is no surprise that in the time that we, the part-timers, were not upstairs that the whole office fell behind. Three times as long.

I don't know whether the kitten will still be at the appartment the next time I go back. She's been a pleasant addition to the household, even Tobe thinks so on occasion. It's terribly sweet how she curls up in bed and she lies in the sink (and still barely fills it). She's become kind of chatty, chirping and "merring" in her hoarse little voice. If she would stop trying to climb me instead of jumping, that would be an improvement, but even that is only slightly irritating. She's very gentle, though, which is good, not once swatting me with her claws extended. I do like kittens.

I ran into K----- of the campaign today at the Dufferin station. He's looking good. He's glad to be out of the basement where he used to work for the UofT Computer Store. It was a brief chat. He was between two meetings in the area and I was on my way to work. I'm glad things have worked out for him; he's one person that deserved getting a position after all the crap he was put through. Unfortunately, I feel kind of alienated from him because of all the shite that's gone on with me and the rest of the City Hall Crew. If I never speak to B----- again, so be it, I could care less. And as for He Who Shall Not Be Named, I left a message for him at the beginning of the week. Am I surprised that he hasn't returned the call? Not in the slightest. It's nice that he could afford to fly to Sudan but not to pay me. Anyway, this is a three-paycheque month for me, so that is a very good thing.

At some point, we have to take our Christmas tree down. Both the one at my place and the one at Mom's. I guess the one chez moi will have to wait a little while longer, since I'm not really around to deal with it. Mom and I will probably take ours down tomorrow. *sigh* There's no putting it off, the Epifany has passed, the Wise Men have brought their gifts... it's time to move on. So now we enter the lull of winter, when it's still dark for most of the day, without a break to keep us sane. The next long weekend is not until the 9th of April (Good Friday). There's no mid-term break for me, either, being out of school and all. Maybe we should bring back the Feast Days of old... The 20th is the Feast of Saint Sebastian (he'd be the one who got stuck with all the arrows). There was something to be said for Feast Days, you know? They don't even have to relate to Saints. Just Days of Feasting in General.

My God, is it ever cold out - I mean REALLY cold. Winter is here and it's made my toes numb. Tonight was one of those nights when I could have -really- used Scarlette, rather than wait half an hour in the frigid wind up at A&C's place for the bus. Actually, cold does not discribe what it is tonight. The windchill makes it -22C tonight, and that's a whole lot colder than the actual temperature of -12, which is pretty frigging cold. Now, I wouldn't be whiny about this, normally, because as most people who know me know that I like the winter, except I was not dressed for it tonight. I was dressed for it this afternoon, but by the time the full moon was over head, my sweater and jacket weren't cutting it.

I am so cold, that I cannot think of anything else to write about.

It's nice and also weird to be back upstairs in the Membership office. I enjoy the ordered chaos - it's hard to explain. Stuff happens up here, and there is usually some fundamental organisation to it, but sometimes it's really hard to see. Someone should be brought in to come up and make this office efficient, but then again, that might result in jobs being lost, so nevermind. Anyway, I'm up here doing office clerkish stuff because the office manager is away on holiday. I don't mind doing phones and whatnot, it's laid back and, generally, it's sort of pleasant to be able to solve problems.

There's a kitten staying at my appartment this week. Ruby was a gift to Stew's goddaughter for Christmas. While she and her family are on holiday somewhere in South America, the kitten is with us. Willi, who is in the Petes needs never know, while Tobe is somewhere between totally jealous and utterly fascinated. Ruby is pretty well behaved, though she tends to think I'm here in order to be climbed. Happily, when she does climb me, she weighs almost nothing so it's not a big deal. Tobe, on the other hand, who used me to escape Ruby's attention, weighs WAY too much to be clinging to my chest and neck. Big ow. Big. The kitten is very sweet, though, and she curls up under my chin in bed, purring like a little motor.

Anyway, I tried to post yesterday, but Blogger seemed to suffer an internal error and my post disappeared. So, I'll try again.

2004 was rung in nicely for me when on the second of January, my best friend, Tracy made the unsurprising announcement that she was officially engaged and I am to be her Maid of Honour. It's exciting, even if this has been a long time coming, and I told her that I'd be more than happy to help her organise things. There is a lot of time between now and Sept/Oct. of 2005 to get things done, but for the heck of it, I took her down to Nocturnalia to speak with Nicole to create a concept for her wedding clothing. For A&C's wedding we went to Heretic, but Nicole is the specialist in period-style clothing and that's what Tracy wants. Even better is that I might be able to wear my gown from A&C's wedding again - the colours are nearly the same. I shall discuss it. Also, I informed Tracy that I would be doing her invitations, no ifs, ands or buts about it. She was okay with that.

I went out to Peterborough on Saturday night, following my last day of working the Art Deco exhibition here at the ROM. The last two weeks had been a terrible zoo; everyone that hadn't come to see the exhibit in the previous three and a half months (and that was a lot of people) all came between the 26th of December and the 4th of January. I am more than happy to not have to deal with peevish members and people who ask the same questions over and over again. It was very nice to be able to go home and vegetate for a few days.

Speaking of going home, I am seriously contemplating going back to school this autumn. Not back to university, mind you, the higher degree will wait a while longer, but to Sir Sanford Fleming College in Peterborough for their museum studies programme. It is apparently the only one of its kind at the college level in Canada, and it's one of the best in North America. Or so I have heard. I've left a message for the director of the programme, a man my mother has met through her work for the Peterborough Symphony Orchestra. I think it would be useful to have a word with him about whether this is really something I should do. Regardless, I'm going to send in an application to the programme - I can always change my mind. September is a long way off yet and nothing is carved in stone.

I wonder who thought that carving in stone gave something permanancy. The Egyptians were masters at defacing and recarving stone surfaces and others have done the same for centuries.

HAPPY NEW YEAR, everybody !! Welcome to 2004. More survivors were found, amazingly, in Bam. It's not the worst start to a year, I guess, at least for a few people. As for me? The last night of the year was spent on Rick's couch mostly playing "Vice City" on his Xbox and watching The Secret of NIMH on DVD. That's such a lovely animated movie - surprisingly old, too. It was made in 1982, which is a pretty foreign number for me to type on the keyboard. I was five when it came out, and while I can't recall if I saw it in theatre, I did see it a few years later when we rented it for one of my childhood Hallowe'en parties. Rick and I opened a little bottle of bubbly and toasted the New Year and then returned to playing video games. It wasn't the most exciting night we could have spent, but it was really nice and totally laid back.

Stew is asleep in his room, which I did not realise when I came in a little while ago. I turned on my stereo and turned up the volume on one of my Christmas presents. I flipped on the hall light to give some light to the house and discovered him. Oops. He is all wrapped up in the dark, Tobe very pleased beside him. It seems he's had a tiring New Year's Eve. Unlike myself. The most exciting thing Rick and I did yesterday was go shopping after I was done at the museum. I bought a beautiful sweater on sale at Jacob and helped Rick shop for many fine pants and shirts at the Bay. Because he was using gift cards from his parents, he also bought me a fedora that was on sale for only thirty bucks. I'm wearing it right now and with the exception of when I went to bed last night, I've been wearing since we picked it up. I'm also wearing my old gold stud earings for the first time in a few years because I've developed an infection in my left hole. Not wanting to have it close as it heals and have to get it repierced, I squinched my face as I eased the sharp post through and now I'm waiting for the swelling to go down. This is why I won't go through another piercing. Though I did consider having another pair of holes put in my ears, it's just not worth it. Anyway, at least it's not bleeding.

I don't have much to say so I'll just wish everyone all the best for the new year and hope for an ending to the insanity that has siezed the world. It's a lot to hope for, but it is a far more worthwhile desire than a list of resolutions that almost no one ever sticks to anyway. Be good to each other.

Wow, happy belated holidays for my Christian, Jewish, and Pagan friends. I completely missed the boat on well wishing, didn't I? Unintentional though it was, it is a good indicator of just how caught up in the spirit of things. I was working at the museum, buying gifts at the last minute thanks to one client making good on an invoice, heading back to the Petes for tree decorating and party-attendance, etc. Was it a good holiday? Why, yes it was. Among other things, there was a lot of quite satisfying sleeping and napping and reading and eating. I also enjoyed an evening at my new favourite pub, St. Veronus, with Ryan and Tanya. Ryan managed to avoid being Mr. Slick Ottawa Politician for a few hours and we ended up having a really nice time.

Christmas television is often, in my opinion, rather lacking - substituting a good story for thick spreadable cheese. So, in order to avoid this messy fondu Mom and I spent not insignificant amounts of time watching classics from our own collection. The Muppet Christmas Carol was as weird and wonderful as ever. We originally were meant to go into Toronto for Christmas Eve in order to celebrate with Julie and Jerzy (pronounced Yeh-shuh), but they had come down with the flu so rather than lament this twist of fate, we watched our favourite version of A Christmas Carol, not the 1951 version, but the 1984 George C. Scott version. We also went to Church for the first time in a couple of years.

The choir at the little United Church we go to is not very good. Their soloists could use some vocal training, at the very least, and they did something with a little quartet that made my hair stand on end - not in a good way. They tried a jazzed up version of "The First Nowell" and boy did it NOT work. Mom and I worked very hard not to look at each other for fear of cracking up. It was gods-awful. That said, the service was very nice and there were plenty of opportunities for me to sing along with many carols. My mother actually sang one carol in Latin, which caused a couple of people to look at her, but it was neat.

We did our big Christmas dinner as usual with friends in Ennismore. We played many parlour games, including Charades (a perennial favourite) and a new game that I'm going to call Cops and Killers. There was also much smacking of balloons around the living room to the point of everyone breaking a sweat and laughing like children. It was a good deal of fun, as always. Boxing Day was spent in our bedclothes, reading the books we'd received and listening to music. Again, we were supposed to try for Toronto, but again we were thwarted by sickness. Ah well, such is life.

Rick had his 25th birthday on Saturday and Mom allowed me to borrow Bernadette so that we could drive out to his parents' in Stoney Creek for much celebrating. That was a good deal of fun - a huge number of his relatives were there and Shorty, the pit bull, was in fine and very happy spirits even though he spent a good amount of the night locked in the back yard.

Well, this hasn't been the profound entry that I might have written, discussing feelings and thoughts that come at this time of the year, but I'm not up to that kind of discussion today. I hope that everyone had a good holiday where ever you might be, and that 2004 is a good year for us all. Happy New Year, folks, and best wishes.

Ed Broadbent's back ! Whee ! Largely considered the greatest man behind social democracy in Canada, he's back to battle the Right. He's like an aging superhero - a little too old to save the day, but you're still happy he's back at it.

Anyway, I saw Return of the King last night once the convention was over. Nicole, Alana, Nora and I had special screening passes because of us being vendors, so not only did we not have to pay, we got to enjoy the film in a specially reserved theatre for those who attended the con. This meant that it was not completely packed (it was the final showing for the event), though it was very well attended, and there were many people wearing elf ears and costumes, and the vibe was perfect. I'm not going to talk about the film as many people have not had a chance to see it and I know that I certainly hate spoilers. Let me simply say that while I missed one or two things that had been changed from the book, many other things more than made up for this. I laughed and cried and Shelob scene caused me to clutch Nicole's hand like a child.

The convention was an interesting experience. It was unlike any other convention I've attended and many of the 'regulars' were not there. First of all, the people in attendence were very much out of one demographic: white, middle-class, and highly educated. The costumes were of a very high qualilty, especially a couple of the Legolassies (Nicole's word) and there weren't the same number of three-hundred pound Galadriels, as we say, as there are at sci-fi conventions. Actually, on the whole, these people were well adjusted and confident. There didn't seem to be the same level of needy people looking for acceptance. It's one of the wonderful things about conventions, that people are usually accepted for who they are, not how fat or ugly or weird they appear to be, but it was really nice to not fear residual body odour left on Nicole's gorgeous clothing. There weren't the same people hanging around the booth that seem so desperate for approval. I'm sorry if this paragraph is offensive to anyone, but it was impossible not to notice the difference in attendees. I've been to enough conventions to observe.

I didn't get a chance to attend any of the lectures or events, mostly due to the fact that I was working and had no disposable money, so I cannot say whether the panel discussions were well attended, or whether they were intelligent and stimulating. I imagine that they were good, though, simply because of the people attending. The convention was fairly well organised, though there were some failings, but I suspect it was the organisers' first convention. For a first, it was pretty good. They had good facilities for everyone, organised transportation to and from events and plenty of refreshment for all. The art show/competition was actually of more interesting content than I'd thought it would be, but, as usual, I took no prize. I do think that it was a failing of the art committee to involve so much artwork based on the films - there was so much that many people didn't even see the few of us whose work was based on the books and imagination. Another neat thing about the convention was the number of new vendors that were present. There was an entire contingent representing Quebec made up of costumers, jewellers, and weaponsmiths. They were VERY fun and when I'm next out at my cottage, I think it would be worth checking out their stores in Montreal, Drummondville, and Quebec City.

The sad part of it all was how much time I spent simmering with anger. The business of the City Hall Crew kept me on a low heat for the duration. It was too bad because I think I would have had more fun otherwise. At least the money I made at selling my cards allowed me to make a few purchases and pay for my expenses. I did make friends with the guys in the Print Three outside the hotel in the underground PATH. They enjoyed my changing wardrobe and glimpsed cleavage and I think they got a real kick out of the dragon bracers I wore on the first day. The business people moving through the PATH were quite taken aback by the costumes and upon my first appearance a fellow in a suit stopped dead and uttered, "Whoa," before shaking his head and continuing on. Sometimes it is a lot of fun to surprise those caught up in the rut of working existence.

Finally, I was just checking the Weather Network and it seems the long-term forecast predicts a warm, wet Christmas for Toronto and Peterborough. Oh well, it can't be white every year, and there's still enough time for the weather to change. Now I must go wrap some presents and have a shower for tonight I'm going to help Rick put up his tree.



You are Fantasy. You have an active and firey
imagination, and you love escaping into
strange, beautiful worlds. You're intensely
curious and dive in to new experiences with
vigour. As a result, you may sometimes be
dissconected to reality, or at least bored by
it. People see you as a dreamer, and they're
probably right. You spend a lot of time inside
your head.


Art Thou? -Your Art Style Personality
brought to you by Quizilla

EDIT. Original content removed in favour of a little tact.

You can get a brief glimpse here, if you care.
....

On a pleasanter note, I sold more Christmas cards today, which was cash in hand to, unfortunately, realistically only cover my expenses, and one present, but at least I didn't have to dig myself into a deeper hole. Tomorrow's the last day and I don't particularly expect to sell all my cards at this point, but hey, maybe, if I'm lucky, I'll pick up some money in the art competition. I've had a lot of feed-back about my stuff and apparently I even got 'fanned' today, but I wasn't at the booth when it happened. Darn. Thai food with the girls, rather than going to Medieval Times with the conventioneers, was nice and very healing, but what I really wish is that I had a big, comfy bathtub in which to soak. For, like, three hours.

In a tradition almost as old as celebrating Christ's birth at Solstice (about 1600 years, give or take), I have managed to miss one of my favourite seasonal TV specials. Tonight, I tuned in to the CBC just in time for the joyous finale of The Muppet Christmas Carol. However, I did get to traipse through the snow all over the place due to my being a dumbass. Between riding the streetcar several stops too far and opting to walk rather than commute, I did a lot of traipsing. I'd also like to take this opportunity to thank the bastard driving the black Lexus SUV who changed lanes for the sole purpose of showering myself and another pedestrian with buckets of salty slush. It boggles my mind that people can be so fucking rude. On a positive note, I was drinking a delicious Egg Nog Cafe Latte. Or Cafe Nog, as I call it. Yum.

All that aside, once all the foofahloo was done with, as in the getting of cars, the rendez-vous-ing of people, etc., setting up for the Gathering was remarkably easy. First of all, the loading dock was RIGHT NEXT to the DEALERS' ROOM. Inconceivable ! Hanging my art was also easy, since the artshow people decided that they would hang everyone's art for them. I am concerned that they will not hang my art nicely, and if that is the case, I shall rehang it when nobody is looking. All the stuff at the Sheridan Centre/Hotel went so smoothy, in fact, that all Nicole and I really had to worry about was how we ought to dress tomorrow.

I should pick up some more invitation sized envelopes, actually, since I'm out, and I should probably get a few more cards printed, too. I don't have enough to sell them individually, or to give a pack to Rick, who wants one. I will have to speak with Nick later to see if I can come by tomorrow after the convention to print more. Otherwise, all looks well and Nicole has okayed my wish to hang some of my non-Tolkien inspired art at the booth itself. I am not planning to have any of my miniature diaramas there, though, as I just can't shlep that much stuff on the TTC.

My weekend was great, if very busy and full of bus riding. I went to London on Friday to NOT hear Tanya sing the Messiah with the London Fanshawe Symphony Chorus. She is currently recovering from pneumonia, but I did have a great time staying with her nonetheless and the performance of the Messiah was actually the best performance I've ever heard. They were better, even, than last year's with the Toronto Symphony. I was very impressed, to say the least. I didn't get to stay in London as long as I would have liked because I had to make it back to Toronto in time to meet Rick and head to his family's in Stoney Creek. Plus, we had to poke around the Eaton Centre to find gifts for his parents. Dinner was great, as always, but this whole taking-the-bus business is cruddy. It's just another inconvenience I could live without.

Anyway, I think that's all for now. I should go finish painting the ornaments so I can give them away and all. Tons to do, so little time in which to do it. Hurray for holidays !

Finally, for those of you who follow these things, remember that Roman Gaming die? It was estimated for sale at 4000-6000$ US. It ended up selling for $17,925. If you don't believe me, check the results page. It was lot number 189. Somewhere, there is a very wealthy, very HAPPY geek.

You might recall my recent post about the Roman gaming die.

I invite you to read this comic inspired by the very same gaming device.

In other news, tonight was the Membership Bowling Party and while I bowled not too badly in the first game, I got my WORST SCORE EVER in the second: 73. Go me ! It was a heck of a good time and I won the "Princess" award for owning my own, made-for-me, bowling shirt. This award consisted of a little fairy-princess-type-wand-sceptre-type-thing with beads and streamers. Whee !

I think that it's safe to say Willi missed me. Her initial glaring having passed, she's now up on my shoulders, happily snoozing, where she's been for about ten minutes now. I have no doubt as to the badness for my shoulders this causes, but it's just too sweet to stop. I could live without her washing my hair for me, mind you, and having seen what happens when long hair comes out the end of a cat, she could probably live without it, too. Anyway, her point is taken. I was gone and she missed me.

I came back from Peterborough at around noon and immediately went and purchased the discount ticket (one day advance purchase) return to London, ON. If you can believe it, even discounted, it cost about 55 bucks. I think that's disgraceful, really. That should be the everyday cost, but I don't run Greyhound, so, if I want to see Tanya, I have to pay. This is another moment of "I miss Scarlette". Taking the bus seriously limits a person and you just never know who's going to be sitting beside you.

Monday is the 15th of the month and I was told I'd get money on the 15th. I've been trying to confirm this with certain people, but they have a sort of slow response time. In the meantime, I have costs that need dealing with, including my frames, which I must have. I figure, I will have to pick them up on Sunday morning, if only to increase my chances of having some money. THIS IS BRUTAL. If I had known how freakin' hard it is to get clients to pay, I would have settled for one of those day jobs that I rejected nearly a year ago. Jeez.

Anyway, I had a nice time in the Petes, brief though the visit was. I was in good spirits and though Mom was suffering some stomach issues, she was in pretty good spirits, too. I bought hair for my sculpture and have since attached it. The figure looks grand. I've brought her back to Toronto so that I can exhibit her at the convention, but I have promised my mother that this is her Christmas present. It can't hurt to put a big, fat SOLD sign on it at the show, though, it always looks good. We also went shopping and sort of dawdled through Portage place. I showed Mom the secret of Ricki's, there, and their excellent array of plus-sized pants. We both got some. Me, a nice pair of aubergine cargos and Mom a smart and sassy pair of black boot-cuts. Whee !

We also ate dinner last night at this pub I'd never been to before. Called St. Verona's, it is a Belgian-styled tavern/restaurant and it serves a whole menu of fancy imported Belgian beers (and a few Dutch and German) and also Belgian-type beer from elsewhere. I experimented with one of their new brews, Barbar Winter Bok, and it was AMAZING. It was very dark, had a nice honey flavour, a wave of maltiness, and no nasty aftertaste. Not at all heavy like Guinness (my other favourite winter drink), it was a party in my mouth and it made my pee smell like grain. COOL. The dinners we enjoyed were also amazing. Beyond this, they played excellent jazz throughout the evening. I have a new favourite restaurant in Peterborough, yessir.

Finally, I would like to congratulate Rick on not smoking for 23 days ! I am soooo proud of him ! GO RICK !!

If it is not actively turning green and fuzzy, how do you know if yogurt is still okay? Technically, yogurt's already gone bad, right? I'm eating my cereal and yogurt and I happen to notice the lid. It seems it was best before five days ago. But, while there might be a slight change in flavour, I'm not sure I would have noticed had I not looked at the lid. It's not like milk where it's obviously chunky and stinky, this just smells... well, yogurty.

Last night, I went to Derek's place around the corner and after a brief dropping-in by his sort-of girlfriend, we watched something like three hours of Muppetty goodness. We started with one of my all-time favourite episodes: Harry Belafonte. We also watched John Cleese, Peter Sellers, Danny Kaye (my gosh that man was a nut), Carol Burnett, Edgar Bergen, and Gilda Radner (another personal favourite). I think there were a couple of others, but I can't recall off the top of my head. What kind of bowled us over was how many of the special guests have since died, not to mention Jim Henson, himself. I cried when Danny Kaye did his inchworm number with the Muppets... it's just so lovely. Derek made Stuff-In-A-Pot for dinner, which was MUCH better than the last time he tried cooking for me. In fact, this time I went back for hearty seconds !

I'm off to Peterborough for a night, but before I go, I am heading to Nick's place in order to print new cards. Exciting ! Ahead of me is a very busy week. It requires that I dip into the rent money, I'm afraid. *sigh* I am relying on being paid on Monday, so if I'm not, heads are going to roll. And I mean it.

It was built in the 1920s as a Vaudeville house and was converted into a movie theatre in 1969. It was huge. It was successful. It was the last of my three favourite movie theatres to close. It was the Uptown. Not only has it been demolished, it refused to go quietly, taking at least one life with it and possibly another still lost in the rubble. When Warren and I passed it on Tuesday, the demolition had only just begun, there was a great big hole in the backstage area to the rear. It looked weird; not like any demolition I'd ever seen. Today, something went horribly awry when one wall collapsed into a neighbouring building.

The fact that the Uptown was allowed to be destroyed is horrible. It was an historic Toronto landmark. Everyone used it's huge verticle sign as a marker for directions. It was a grand theatre. Its loss is a great shame. Yet another showing of Toronto's typical idea of historic preservation.

"The Uptown, built by Loews in 1922, and subsequently taken over by Famous Players, was the first Toronto movie house equipped for sound. Although the main entrance was on Yonge Street, the bulk of the theatre faced on the less expensive back stree, Balmuto, where there was a unique backdoor entrance." -- The "Nabes" by John Sebert

The last time I was there was for Pirates of the Caribbean with Nick back in July. I called it my almost favourite theatre. My all-time favourite, the Eglinton, was also closed by Famous Players and is now a rental theatre. At least that one was saved from demolition.

Read about it here.