Author: Allegra

Born when atmospheric carbon was 316 PPM. Settled on MST country since 1997. Parent, grandparent.

Dayum! Missed the zombie walk

Did not get the email this year.  Got it last year. Why am I unloved?

Jerome came by for lunch in the middle of a day which was to be endured and not enjoyed.  He was the only bright spot.  I love him so… I could get extremely mushy about him, but when I like people I’m pretty happy animal about it and don’t bother hiding it.  Anyway, I got to introduce him to my coworkers by their blog names (bwa, likewise ha!).  Best part of lunch: getting outside the building to talk to him alone and then having one of our old workmates come up after his run and beg forgiveness for not attending the stag (which was a good mix of coworkers old and new, and family, not too big and not too, uh, well, dumb).  Second best:  Allegra archly announces “Jerome is getting married this week!” to which ScaryClown responds, “What the fuck do you want to be doing THAT for?” while Robof9 murmured, “Run away, run away!” in demented counterpoint. (They too are my coworkers….)  I’ll leave out Jerome’s immediate response, which is not for public consumption (at least if he wants to stay on course for getting married on Saturday) and cut to his next words, which were said with that large, eerie blue gaze of his, “She doesn’t appear to be crazy!” at which point I was justabout helpless with laughter, because all I could think of was how amused my dad would be at the shenanigans (and you would have been, it was like being in a really good sitcom for about 30 seconds).

AT SOME POINT, Katie is going to have to negotiate staying here while she’s in school.  She’s talked to me and she’s talked to Jeff, but we’ve never had the dreaded “all three of us” talk.   Sooner or later you have to have the dreaded talk, and the only comfort you can take is that somebody is lying, and maybe even you, but ground rules are necessary and will require reiteration. (Otay, that sounded bitter, but I was thinking of something other than the sweet gig I have here with Jeff – even if the landlord’s dog shat in the yard just as I was getting home last night).  Katie stayed overnight, and she has a cheque in her bag which would be sufficient to bring tears to my eyes if the leg cramp which woke me up at 4:15 hadn’t accomplished that task.  Rule number one is gonna have to be a little comment on the toilet lid.  It stays down.  Otherwise I can hear Eddie slurping in the night about three feet from my head, an uncanny noise which does not make for cheerful dreams, what with the toilet being just the other side of the wall.

Katie K’s Vegas postcard came here after she got back.  Made me smile.

I answered another Craigslist ad. For Jeff’s response, scroll up and check with ScaryClown.  More politely stated, of course; Jeff is never rude by accident.  I have YET ANOTHER email address now, but I hate my hotmail and telus and sfu accounts and I will be collapsing them all down by the end of the year.

Migraine signs.  Oh, it’s gonna be a peachy peach of a day.

Peaceful weekend

It was the kind of weekend when I did a little cooking and a little laundry and a lot of lazing around, so I consider it a success.  The crows are flying to their day jobs, the sky is strewn with grey, pink and purple, there’s a siren in the distance and it’s just like a regular Tuesday….. except there’s tapioca in the fridge.

So what happened in the world.  Looks like Canadians are headed to the polls, although the date has not yet been set.  McCain picked a running mate without vetting her seriously first, which strikes me as mildly insane but not really surprising.  The Tories want to revamp public health in the wake of the food borne pathogen outbreak.  I thought this meant they were going to hand out free Pepto-Bismol but apparently they are going to do something a little more substantive.  Well, good luck on that; it’s kind of hard to enforce standards when you have no inspectors.  Maybe they will get more inspectors. Funny family story; when my uncle Gary was a youngun he helped inspect food production facilities in Ontario for a summer and at the end of it the only thing he would eat was Laura Secord chocolates.  I really don’t think much has changed.  When I was a puppy I worked for a structural engineering firm that did the upgrades to the Maple Leaf plants in Toronto and the boys would come back from site inspections and regale the other employees with what actually goes on in a meatpacking plant, especially if the other employees decide they don’t like you.  Blech.  Plus ça change, baybee.

I guess it wasn’t a peaceful weekend for everybody.  Amy Goodman discusses her arrest.

It is over

The first 3 seasons of NCIS are done.  Hiatus I and II sucked wind at a hundred p.s.i., but maybe I’m just mad because they never filmed a dream sequence of Mark Harmon and Michael Weatherly getting it on.  I mean, three seasons in, and Whedon would have done it, but I guess Bellisario is molto square, although he sure makes room for all the slash fic you can think of, what with everybody bein’ so touchy and all.  Boy, does Mark Harmon hug Pauley Perrette a lot in Season 3!?  Then, further to the slashfic.  I’m imagining a mashup consisting of “You’re the Top” sung by Barbara and Ryan with every mention of top and bottom showing DiNozzo and McGee with nice linking motion caps.  Mm.  Could go places.

Really,  really,  I should change the subject.

Unicode

你好!

If the above noted is garbage, my apologies, but I just inserted ni hao, which is hello in Mandarin (literal translation.. you good?)

Took me forever to find the right characters.  Just playing around, can’t really start the laundry until later….

Katie K

FINALLY – after literally months – I got together with Katie K in her ‘impressively staged’ condo.  Why, when I recollect what it looked like the last time I was there…. okay, maybe I’d better rephrase that.  There is virtually nothing in the condo.  I mean, a hotel suite has more furniture in it.  The repulsive colours on the walls are now amazingly similar to the Dusty Roads Paul and I painted the Augur Inn (note, that was really Unca Dave who painted it), and the hunter green carpet is now the same laminate flooring Paul and I put in the basement after the flood.  All in all, it looks lovely & you can actually see all the closet space, of which, given the size of the condo, it has a lot.  Yes, the condo is still for sale. Her new place closes in a month. Insert vicious comments about the horrors of getting a mortgage when you’re a woman on your own, bridge financing lamentations, etc., etc.

After we be trading smoking hot gossip and footrubs (when, pray tell, are footrubs NOT in order?) she got a thoughtful look on her face and showed off all the fancy lingerie she got in Vegas (okay, boys, you can all go to your happy place now) and she mentioned her weight loss, and then said, “Try these on” so I now have a really nice fitting pair of Gap jeans and the knowledge that Katie K is a size smaller than me.  At least in the ass department.  I’d need a really venal plastic surgeon to be able to approach the magnificence of her balcony. There followed a discussion about shipping ourselves off to a fat farm for a month next summer, this summer being jammed full of other things as well as almost over.  Maybe I should just get my jaw wired shut; it would get me off the phone at work, my brother wouldn’t have to listen to my yammering, and I’d quit eating as if I had a tapeworm.  Mm, tapeworm.  I could always try that too.

Jeff and I had considered going to the Harlan Ellison biomovie at Cinémathèque but when I got home from Katie’s we just looked at each other and went meh.  Then more NCIS.  Pretty soon Season 3 will be all gone, so we’ll have to go back to watching movies.  With respect to NCIS, I have noticed some really glaring continuity errors, and I’ve finally warmed up to Michael Weatherly.  The Ziva character, of course, is wonderful.

I woke up to “Young Dumb and Crazy” playing in my head, with full 60’s style accompaniment, kinda a cross between Nelson Riddle and Bert Kaempfert (aaaarrrrgggghhh!) and some beardless tenor wailing out the lyrics.  Let me tell you something.  You know how you can get a song stuck in your head?  Try having written the damned thing, c’est pas un cadeau.

Spoke to Paul yesterday about kid stuff.  I am so happy to be able to communicate with him reasonably well about the important issues without being all hissy towards him.   Human communication is such a fragile thing.

Today, laundry.  And other cleaning matters…..

Robof9 sends me a virtual octopus chandelier

Isn’t it sweet? Don’t quite like the colours but I’m all over the design.

Mike, Jeff and I hung out for a bit last night and we saw a Robot Chicken I had never seen before.  There’s this one blackout of Chewbacca imitating the Fonz which was cherce.  Then some more Futurama (the alternate universe one) so FOR ONCE we didn’t watch any NCIS, which I realized has dominated my television viewing for the last while.  But it’s so good!  The plots bump up against, and frankly sometimes stampede over, both plausibility and the likely continued employment of the principals, but the editing and dialogue and sheer charm of the show – when people aren’t being gruesomely murdered or turned into propane powered chunks by law enforcement – continue to dazzle.

It was great to see Mike.  He had to skate off as he had a date with Heather, but it was worth it just to see his new hairstyle.  Oh… it’s still long.  It was inflated to about 15 PSI though.  I’ll leave those of you who know him to picture that.