Category: Friends

Dreams

Last night I dreamed that I, my cousin and an unknown accomplice used a passkey to get into a stylish penthouse where we stole …shoes….  why shoes? What about jewellery and money?  I am a lousy thief even in my dreams.  Then she came home and was…. suspicious of these chattering women on her private stairs and like a moron I said, “We were up on the roof garden” and I ditched my bag of incriminating evidence – at the very last minute I had decided to huck some Capezios into my bag – and promptly locked myself in an extremely cold, dank, dark and disgusting room.  The end.

Tonight I’m off to get fed by the Luddite, tomorrow, Tom and Peggy will be feeding me, what bliss.  I like it when the major meal for the next two days is looked after.

You would never be able to tell Katie cleaned my apartment on Monday.  I am a bad, bad puppy. So until I’m off for dinner, it’s cleanin’ time.

One thing and another

Still… migraining.  It comes and goes.  Hopefully by the time I toddle off with Kopper (shoot, nearly typed ‘Kipper’) to see Hecuba it will be entirely lifted.

Funny picture. 

I actually practiced last night.  Given how terrible I was (I could not finish A SINGLE song without fluffing words or chords or both) I think I will be pencilling in a lot more practice between now and Conflikt.

I will sit right down, waiting for the gift of sound and vision

Yesterday I saw a Youtube video shot by Rob Sawyer of Neil Gaiman in a blue tech gown holding a panda.  This would not be in any way particular odd, except somebody put The Tubes’ Don’t Touch Me There as the soundtrack, which is screechingly hilarious.  And it reminds me of my first husband, who still doesn’t have internet access, ack, gargle.

Yesterday I ran across this incredible piece of inane bs.  I am posting the link only so I can imagine Debbie screeching, “Who does this guy think he is???? Maternal love only lasts 33 months???” The funny part is that some of it is fairly good, but the writing style makes me think that this dude’s not playing with a full emotional deck. Anyway, maternal love lasts as long as the oxytocin hit you get when you see your kid or hear their voice on the phone or get a letter or email from them lasts.  And that, as we mothers know, is a long time.  And if they crawl into bed with you for a nap or because they’ve had a nightmare, even if they’re 14, it makes for a feeling of emotional sweetness that is hard to beat.  This dude doesn’t get the oxytocin thing.  Too bad for him!!!  Oh, and I know that men can love longer than 42 months.  I’ve seen it.

Yesterday morning I was so angry that I wanted to kick every man I know down a flight of stairs, with the exception of Paul, Keith, John, Jeff, my dad and Jarmo – and maybe the guy who cleans my apartment building who’s an exceptionally nice man. Okay, maybe Parm at Renaissance Coffee.  Shoot… I forgot Glenn and Mike; Tom, Tom U., ack, Brian C, Jim E.  Okay, I was mad at one particular man and things were kind of spilling over…  Then a man walked up to me and said, “Do you need a hug?”  and I went “Aw!” Just think, that huggy guy doesn’t understand how much carnage he averted.  Either that or he broke the glass labelled “What to do in case Allegra’s pulling her crap again.”

Yesterday I phoned my dad and said, “They changed the laws.  It’s time.”  Actually, I told my mother that, she’s more tactful than I am.   pOp was working until his 70th birthday as a crossing guard (note, employment not exactly as shown), and he really misses it.

Yesterday I got Himalayan Peaks takeout and it was completely yummy.

Yesterday evening I got on the phone with the guy I’m so mad at, and we squared things away.  I should just quit getting mad.  It never lasts; it never accomplishes anything.

Soon I’m going to see some live theatre, which reminds me I should get off my keester and see if Kopper got tickets or whether I ought to or not.  And soon, singing on Monday nights.  Happy sigh.

I am still flashing on Ville dancing to Safety Dance on Dance Dance Revolution. He repeated it about 15 times so I’m having a hell of a time shaking it, and the little flash of Morris Dancers in the background keeps coming up as well.

I am looking at my stannomancy and thinking…. There’s a waterbird. And a leg. And a wedding (which I already knew about because Shannon and Jerome are getting married).

Happy New Year

Well, that was a simply glorious evening. Mike and Heather turned up about 9:30 so we had an actual “There are more than two family molecules here” partay. I didn’t know and Jarmo didn’t either that both he and I had invited Mike – and Katie got into the action and got on the phone with him as well.
I got there about seven thirty, all choked because nothing was open so I could pick up more supplies. I watched a family game of Texas Hold’em, which I had never seen before. Kids arrived about half an hour later, and that’s when the trouble really started; we made the discovery that our hosts had Guitar Hero II and Dance Dance Revolution.

If the downstairs neighbour had been in (he’s a bouncer, so one can imagine how he was occupied last night) he’d have pounded every one of our heads in, seriatim. As it was I danced so much my back actually feels better today. Then Mike broke out the Guitar Hero III and the duels/cooperative mode play began! It was amazing watching Keith and Eric thrash out some SOS by the Police, and then he and Mike did Warpigs. THEN THE STANNOMANCY.

o

my

goodness

Below is all five of them – for the three of us. Keith and Katie both got twins! Keith’s were almost perfectly even and symmetrical – except one was a boy and one was a girl which you will note if you look closely at the top two – and Katie got a dragon and a whale – the bottom two. Mine’s the moon curve in the middle…
all-three-of-us-2008.jpg

Below, Katie’s

katie-2008.jpg

Below mine, held by Katie to give you an idea of the size. It was the largest of the evening by a wide margin, which might or might not have had something to do with going last. Jarmo’s was the only one with ‘money’ in it.
katie-with-allegra-2008.jpg

Below, Keith and Mike play co-op on Warpigs.
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And here’s Katie, wearing my 2008 as a Goth Tiara….

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We took off about 1:30 – I drove the kids home and cleared the door of my apartment just after 2. Then I phoned Katie to say, “yes mom I’m home”.

Precis

New Year’s at Susanna and Jarmo’s Stannomancy Hut (Keith is accompanying, wOOt.)  Kopper’s visit was mellow, low key and instructional (I am now exposed to David Lynch’s euro version of the pilot for Twin Peaks).  Keith and Kopper got to view each other IRL.  Keith’s visit included a brief workout downstairs – I joined him.  I immediately felt worse but I feel okay now.  Look what Kopper’s got pencilled in for New Year’s Day – firing arrows at targets….  I hearts a woman who can silently put effective holes in things at a distance.

Salmon Chanted Evening

Well, that was entirely a slice of life. I mean, how many women in Vancouver had a date last night that included:

  • a threat to be serenaded – on triangle? (He plays well; he even has an album credit!) He plays other percussion instruments <<<--- wOOt, Catherine!  and pennywhistle too. I wants me some triangle loving from Ward's Music now. Actually today I'm buying a snare head and brushes but that's another story.
  • a listen to the album, which is lively English trad tunes?  To preserve his privacy, no link alas.
  • a trip upstairs to view…to view not etchings, but Shuffle Demon videos? Like, more than one. I got to watch Out of my House, Roach! (more than once, I loved it so much) and Spadina Bus, and there were more yet. I countered with the Dudley Moore Beethoven Sonata version of the Colonel Bogey March, which is brilliant (I think rOn sent me that link). For the life of us we couldn’t find an audio of the Peter Cook Coal Miner/Judge skit but we found the text. He countered with the Shirt Sketch from early John Cleese Graham Chapman days. And there was some other stuff in there but it was jolly good fun, like his Morris dancing road trip picture.
  • Double Chocolate Stout beer? Quoth he, I don’t know why I got given this, I never touch beer. Well I did in a rather total war kind of way, and it was yummy…
  • Leftover Chinese food from a splendid meal at Angel on Fraser? (Except the soup, the soup bit sand). Quoth he, I don’t like leftovers.  Hmmm.
  • A wonderful hour poking around books from the thirties about engineering marvels and archaeological digs?

I am now contemplating moving furniture some more and then Keith’s going to come over and we’re going to shop and try to find the Serenity DVD (director’s cut/special edition).  Tomorrow, Kopper and I will hang out.

At some point I have to figure out what the hell I’m doing for New Year’s Eve.  I have six different prospects, but I want to do stannomancy at the Dalai Jarmo’s again, and the folks say they are up for having me…. it’s also the closest.  Always a consideration.

Happy

I’ve been working on comedy routines.  The current one is “what happens when my inner Buddha meets my inner Hitler”  (hint, Buddha doesn’t always keep his teeth) and the inner Gord.  I am having lots of fun, as Gord just said something entertaining which I need to write down.

I’m off to visit the Luddite tonight and have food with him.  I tried to get him to cook for me but he made grim pronouncements about burning things so I think we’re going for Chinese.  It’s certainly a treat to meet somebody more optimistic than I am.
There’s another goddamned foot of snow on the hill here.  I am sure the ski operators are peeing their snowpants with glee but I had to heave a bundle buggy full of crockpot and crockery and food through it both ways yesterday.  I had to stop about three times coming back up the hill and check my pulse to make sure I was in the right zone for my fitness level.

Right now I am very happy.  I know that what I am about to describe will sound like the third circle of hell to some people, but my girlfriend Tammy phoned last night and we spent TWO HOURS on the phone, role-playing ‘difficult conversations with people we love’.  Tammy’s got more training in this than I do, so I’d say, blah blah need to talk to you about something are you ready to hear it, and she’d say.  Yeah.

So I’d say my thing, and she’d say, “You’re not quite getting it.  You need to only talk about one thing.”

“It is only one thing.”

“No, it’s two.  This and this.”

And I’d pout, and try again.

“You’re still trying to talk about two things at once.”

“F)ck, no I’m not!!”

“Yes you are.  There’s this… and there’s this.  Two separate issues.  You have to respect the person you’re talking to by only dealing with one issue, that you’ve thought through, at one time.”

“AAAAAAAAAAARgh.”  (More briefing?  More briefing.)
She’s right of course. I almost had the hang of one corner of it by the time we signed off.  And this morning I’m happy, because as I prepare for a ‘difficult conversation with someone I love’ I’m a little closer to getting my half of it right.  Is it a particular person?  A particular conversation?  Nope.  It’s just life.  Be prepared – and if you can’t be prepared, be present.

Cross post from LJ

Spent the evening with Kopper and was in such an exalted state upon my return to my apartment that I couldn’t sleep.  Do you suppose the exercise helped?  Maybe it was the second dinner?

I composed a six minute comedy routine, recited it thrice through and spoke it into my digital recorder. All hail Lady Miss Banjola for reminding me I had one.  Then I woke up with two bizarre things going on simultaneously in my cranium; I woke up dreaming that Mike was crossing from dream life into real life with me as I awoke (I was in full combat gear, and he was in civvies, carrying a package). I was point and as I came around I was going to let him have it with this extremely fine weapon I was carrying and he just grinned and said, “You won’t need that.”

At the same time a really pretty chorus was ringing in my head.  In four part harmony.  I mean ringing.  I couldn’t get out of bed until I’d memorized it, and now I’m going to sing it into Garage Band, much to the disgust of my neighbours as I imagine.

That was a hell of a talk, girl.

Later…. This helped too.

I had no idea

… that Lady Miss Banjola took this picture. There are two awesome things and two awful things about the pic. The first two are that I am very happy I followed Janice’s example and quit dying my hair. I’m even happier I’ve let it grow out. The first awful thing is I LEFT THOSE JARS OF BLACKBERRY JELLY on the table. They were for me (the ones for Loki being already here) and they did not make it home with me. Arg of Argness! The second awful thing is that this picture makes my nose, already a decent size, look ENORMOUS. But at least I’m pictured working on the second verse of the song, which is now entitled “YOU try being Buffy’s Mom.” Considering I haven’t done anything creative in what feels like eons, that’s something.

Foodicles and Canticles

Dinner at Tom and Peggy’s.  I am in a state of repletion to which I may apply words like total, explosive and entire.  Bacon strips over chicken breasts.  Zow.
The second part of my “three songs by January 25th challenge” is now complete.  I have written a Buffy filk about Joyce.  Ahoy, nautilus3, I am now recycling meh-ish songs into Buffy filks.  Ramen! Joss Whedon and Fox own all the characters.
TTTO If I could write a song for you (by moi, couple of years back)

You think I haven’t got a clue –

I’m telling you it’s no small task

To be the Slayer’s single mom

Well how hard can it be?  I’m glad you asked!

She’s constantly in trouble

And spoiling for a fight

But if my girl’s out kicking demon ass I know the world will be all right

Chorus.

I tell her “Get your homework in on time”

“Try hard to be home by nine”

“When I ask how you are, say, “Fine! I just saved the world… again!””

Every season brings a change, the Scoobies fight a new “Big Bad”

And rabid fans don’t think you’re strange if you won’t watch ‘the Body’ ’cause it’s sad!

You must admit I’m special – Buffy could have done much worse

And that I really am the bestest mother in the whole damned Whedonverse!

Chorus

Bridge

Sometimes I reminisce and sift through memories I like

I get all misty-eyed about the time I clobbered Spike

I’ve been assaulted and enchanted, I take Hellmouth stuff in stride

I’m telling you it’s parenthood that’s oftentimes a much more scary ride

It’s all about the teamwork – it’s all about fair play

But I’d appreciate if you don’t ask about my fling with Giles today

Chorus

Repeat “I just saved the world… again!”

Spoken: “That’s my girl!

Note to Lady Miss Banjola… big time lyric changes from tonight’s recording but the shape of the song has not changed.  Suggestions for additional lyrics/verses gratefully accepted!

Anniversary

Today’s the anniversary of the day I told Paul I was calling it quits.  I phoned Tammy a year ago today and told her I wanted to kill myself.  (I did, too, despite being told that I was being manipulative.) Instead of freaking out, she listened; at the end of about half an hour, she said, in a tone of voice that I recollect when I think I’m friendless (her tone being solemn, helpful and engaged) “You don’t want to kill yourself.  You want a divorce.”

Now I am sure that there a couple of people out there who wish I had offed myself, but frankly I’m glad I didn’t, as a couple of things have happened since that I am glad I lived through.

So today, I’d just like to say a couple of things.  The person sitting next to you may look fine and want to die.  Go easy on people; you don’t know what griefs they are carrying that you really wish you’d known about in advance.  In the rush to judgment do not trample compassion.
The other thing I want to say is that over the span of the last year, a lot of people I thought I knew have revealed their true colours to me.  A lot of people I respect have earned more of my respect.  A lot of people I like have become more likeable.  And a number of people I thought I hated have turned out to be poor, suffering bastards deserving of love and compassion and kindness.  I can’t make them like me – such is not within my power – but I have stopped hating, and that’s a really good place to find myself a year onwards.

Oh, and I think I’ve found somebody to date.  He’s very private and a bit of a Luddite, so I am mentioning his existence only as passing news, as he will not otherwise be turning up in my blog. But anybody who’s into contradancing can’t be all bad, right Chipper?

Prospects for the week and further out

Tonight, off to a commercial gym for a workout with Kopper – a gym which is also located next to a Safeway so I will sneak in a small shop.  There’s a promotion on so I don’t have to pay for it, and as is obvious I find it murderously hard to exercise if it’s removed from a social context.  Tomorrow night, Zombie Night with Dances with Sheep.  The rest of this week I am keeping open with an eye to either having Kopper over for dinner or having Katie over, as she is actually wanting to spend time with me-someone fetch the smelling salts.

Much is happening which is unbloggable.  I’d blog about it and not give two hoots, but as the years drain away, tact forces itself on me much as age does, that and the occasional threats of a good bang in the nose or wretched social snubbing.   Fortunately I still have a functioning telephone.  I will confine my remarks to this tidbit.  Recently an attractive single man told me I’m too fat.  This hardly constitutes news, but it certainly helped chivvy my ample ass back to the gym
Daughter Katie has removed the first season of Deadwood from these environs, hoping to infect her father and brother… we shall see if the disease takes hold.

My back is somewhat improved but I am not looking forward to making it through a day of work without painkillers, as I cannot function on Robaxicet at work. Vitamin I (ibuprofen) makes me sleepy.  Opiates make me formicate.  Yes, that’s an m and not an n.

I have signed up for a singing course Monday nights starting in January.  I am probably going south with Tammy sometime in February or March.  And Jeff is moving to town!  All in all, I have lots of good things to look forward to!

Happy birthday nautilus3.  I hope your last radiation treatment is your last radiation treatment and that we don’t have to stick a fork in you to ensure you’re ‘done’ on that side.

Last night I dreamed about a magic building.  It was where Harry Potter and all of his buddies put their old school stuff in storage, and where rooms turned into elevators, and people changed appearance with abruptness but their voices stayed the same.  There was also REALLY bad wallpaper.  The funny thing is I’ve dreamed about this building before, but the building is magic, so it looked different the last time.  Does that make any sense?  Also last night I read the Tarot (Celtic Cross layout, as usual).

  1. The Lovers
  2. King Pentacles
  3. Moon
  4. 3 Pentacles
  5. Hanged Man
  6. Queen Pentacles
  7. Knight Swords (again!!)
  8. 4 Pentacles
  9. Hierophant
  10. Devil

I won’t get into a big long dissertation about it, but I thought it would be entertaining to put the first and last cards side by side, so you can get the ‘joke’ of the layout.  (My deck is capable of being very snarky, and very playful, and very, very direct).

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Notice any similarities between the two cards?  The layout is virtually identical. The Lovers represent the struggle between sacred and profane love.  The Devil represents both the ease with which we are ensnared by our passions, and the key to getting free (the chains are not tight… the two figures can ‘check out any time they like’ although one is tied to her physical addictions – the wine – and the other tied to the mental – the fire representing both anger and lust).  The two outcome cards are the Queen of Pentacles and the Devil.  La lutte continue.