Don’t let them see.

I have met somebody who wears her heart on her sleeve. I’d like her to tuck it away, but I don’t get to make that call.

She got stuck at the airport. She is in the sf/horror fan community, knows about 30 people in common with me and since it’s her story to tell, how she got stuck there, I will stay quiet.  Katie let me borrow the car to unstick her, and now she’s either asleep or colouring mandalas. A few of the designs are straight up eyepopping.

Got Keith’s Christmas present to me set up – I regifted the Instant Pot from Mike to Katie; I’ll get it back at Litha.

It never ceases to amaze me how much better my life has been because of the people I’ve managed to get close to. Sometimes I think coupling up is an extended magical joke of some kind. Now I’m old and I want completely different things from partners; less excitement and more being there.

I talked to Katie last night and after I got home and started tidying up a bit I was standing at the sink and I just started crying because despite everything, all the stupid anger I’ve been holding onto, she gets me. And so does Keith and so does Paul. I’m glad they didn’t see me crying. They would have been upset on my behalf, and I’m feeling better than I have in ages.

Now I’m going to check if our houseguest is up and start singing like a chicken if she is because I can get away with that, and Jeff’s not ‘hear’ to plead for the sanctity of his eardrums. He’s supposed to be back today; hope the 5 to 10 cm of snow we’re getting (Erie PA got 6 inches of lake effect snow yestreen, how droll) doesn’t hurt his chances of getting back here safe from Victoria.

I salted all the walkways, I’ll salt the driveway before the predicted snow flies too hard. I put so much salt on the back deck that I can now hear it creaking as the compressed snow/ice starts to let go its grip.

That feeling when

Jeff calls the new Hulu show “Burn Tarot” and expects Jeffrey Donovan to be doing voiceovers “When you’re a psychic,” and you laugh so hard you pull a rib.

Some irritated person threatens to call the Site Leader (basically GOD ON CALL) when you warn them that work requests will be slow tonight because you’re at 50% staffing and your response is OH WOULD YOU PLEASE we’ll need her help sorting through all the work requests that were in the system AHEAD OF YOURS. That was 3/4 of an hour ago.  Yeah, you guessed it, no call. Just as an aside I actually paged the Site Leader yesterday and she didn’t answer, so make of that what you will. She probably pulled an Allegra and when she didn’t recognize the number didn’t pick up lollllol.

People who work nights and complain about the workload and do a shitty job and sleep in the ER until 5 am when they wake up and pretend to do more work are on the receiving end of one of your pointier emails.

I have 64 likes on my Supernatural fic and 4 kudos and I’m thinking I KNOW SOMEBODY LIKES MY WRITING and Jeff says my interest in slash fanfic for a show I don’t watch equals zero, interest in MMCo = 100% and you just think squee.

You’ve invented a fanfic universe in which you have a McGuffin to make any character pairing possible (with a lot of effort, but possible).

Your daughter calls and tells you she got a job, a good job, in a union environment, close to home and you’re dancing around like an idjit.

You think ‘I’m actually going to miss this job’. I mean, I quit a month ago and I’m still working here, it’s insane. And some of the people are so much fun, I come in early just so I can interact with them.  Others, well, you know how it is.

I’ve almost paid off my credit card debt and I did it with money I earned.

You forget to tell your mother that you received and deposited the cheque she sent you… a month ago.

You watch the Wrong Box again.

I’m putting it in my pile of movies to watch when I’m feeling icky. Because watching it put a bounce in my step. Figuring out that John Larroquette based his performance in the Librarians in part on Ralph Richardson’s tremendous turn as Joseph Finsbury; (so many classic lines among which ‘the playing of games, with balls of varying sizes’ never fails to crack me up), marvelling at Peter Sellers’ false nose and moggy filled apartment (at one point he mops up an ink blot with a kitten’s ass); drooling over the set dec and costumes, which are lovely, and the script (done in part by Larry Gelbart whom you may also know as one of the creators of A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum and M*A*S*H the tv show, also family faves), the hilarious and stylish music, with a score by John Barry, also a fave of mine (his theme for the Persuaders was one of the highlights for me on tv when I was a teen); John Mills’ voice; the ridiculous train derailment; Tutte Lemkow, the professional villain, and his entirely mute performance as the knitting mad Bournemouth Strangler. Anyway, if you haven’t seen it, and would like a film that amuses without cloying, it’s really, really good.

So yeah… all in all I’m having a good week, and writing 15k words in 4 days was… interesting. Graphomania is a helluva drug. I was literally pacing when I wanted to write and couldn’t, and that’s PSYCHOMOTOR AGITATION folks.  Perhaps the sun is coming back and making me twitterpated.




the delayment of the inevitablelike


I’ll be working until the end of January. The woman I was hired to temporarily replace for medical reasons and to be a casual is now not working for the company, reason unknown. My reasons for not wanting to be there are still in place but I’m getting paid and I don’t have to work weekend days so I don’t care.  Steady middies for me!

It’s amusing that I’m awake now.  The world is white and quiet with snow, and if I was working tonight my shift would be about to start…. I just woke up.

I could use the money, although I’d forgotten the extent to which commuting in the wintertime is such a fricking drag in this burg.

Getting to and from work the last week has chewed through a bus station mop. But… it only took an hour to get home yesterday.

My characters are sad and so am I.  It’s the pathetic fallacy folks.

Also one of them is quitting drinking and I’m walking alongside him for portions of that, which I loathe.

Although I did think of THE MOST DISGUSTING SIXER RELATED GAG I mean I burst out laughing when poor Jeff was trying to watch the Dallas/Tampa game, which was ugly and beautiful and what the hell’s going on with the zebras, and mah God Dak Prescott, but I just had this vision of Sweetie, who is like 3 kilos, being the security guard for the whorehouse, and controlling a patron with the vilest impersonation of Clint Eastwood as Dirty Harry one could possibly imagine, and I couldn’t stop laughing because the joke grows organically out of the situation and at this point we could all use a laugh,

because Trump sailed through the Electoral College, and the Republic, tottering after decades of hacking at the Constitution and weak from never dealing with racism and the Civil War, is in full kleptocratic collapse.

What to watch for over 4 years in the US:

Moar racism

Moar war

Higher infant and maternal death rates – this has actually been going on in slow motion over the decade I’ve been keeping track, it’s sickening…

More prison rioting (underreported) as the food in prisons gets worse and worse under Trump’s prison owning buddies

Higher violent death rates, across the board, all kinds – vehicles (road rage), guns, knives, stranglings.

More alcoholism and alcohol related death

More needle drug abuse and higher rates of AIDS HIV infection. More people dying of ODs, pills and otherwise.

Zika running wild in South Florida and the gulf coast and women being forced to carry the fetus to term with no health insurance for a lifetime of need thanks to Republican state legislatures

Hundreds more deaths each year from white people carrying guns, being scared of black people and shooting grandmothers and toddlers but mostly teenage boys who are existing while black

Muslims being burned alive in their mosques. Hasn’t happened yet but it’s going to happen and more than once.

Tripling of deaths in custody. (The statisticians just learned that the number of people who’ve died in custody in the US in the last five years is ACTUALLY DOUBLE what they thought because there’s no reporting mechanism and now the cop unions are trying to prevent any oversight of this statistic at all…)

Diaspora people – Jewish, black and Muslim – who have family and opportunities in Canada, moving here, although they’ll probably need a couple of years of Trump to realize it’s time to get out of town.

Tourism tanks across the US and Trumpites CELEBRATE America for Americans.

Confederates bringing automatic weapons to Pride Days and killing grandmothers and toddlers along with some queers.

Open war on First Nations Land; mass incarcerations and arrests, and Trump’s buddies making money on it.

More legal weed.

Secession talk from more than California.

The Left NEVER calling him President Trump. Just Trump. Or Cheetolini.

Patton Oswalt falling in love again and remarrying.  Because honestly, that man deserves happiness.

Sad family note. Young cousin got a bad (not what he specifically and carefully asked for) haircut… but we have a hairdresser in the family and our relations did not have to have that experience.  I wish it were otherwise but how often does adult convenience drive the nightmares of small children. I speak from sad and memorable experience here, thinking about Katie and the earring back. I still cry when I think about that, tho’ Katie has long since forgiven me.

A friend asked me what my Christmas Day plans were and I said “Reheating takeout and watching Die Hard with my brother” and now we’re eating at Hal and Cassidy’s, go team!

At some point Jeff and I have to leave the house for supplies, but the urban slushy streets are too disgusting….



Last days, short strokes

I just checked my calendar and my last day is the 23rd; I’ll go in on the 22nd and emerge at dawn into the last two days of schlepping before baby Jesus pops out of the creche and we get 2.5 more months of winter. Good thing I don’t have to buy a damned thing.  My dad wants a home cooked meal, my mOm wants me to finish my books and print them, my kids are getting clothes, Jeff’s getting either nothing or something to do with Antarctica, Paul’s getting biscotti and so’s pretty much everyone else.  Hm perhaps I should locate blackberry jelly. That rarely goes amiss across the pond.

There are definitely parts of this job I enjoyed.  I like nights.  Most of the housekeeping staff and managers on nights are civilized and hardworking individuals. The ones who aren’t, well, I’m not going to talk about them.  The good ones, I’ll miss of course.

Paul because he is AWESOME drove me to work tonight, for no reason, just because he could.  And in so doing improved my mood out of all proportion to the gesture.  (Jeff was asleep long since, or he would have been happy to.)

Jeff is BEING SUPERBRO.  I am very happy to be living with him right now. Of course when I feel like this (all d’awwwww!) I end up cooking, and what is wrong with that?  I’m going to make dough.  Only cinnamon rolls can express my feelings at the moment.  Maybe schnitzel? Maybe we should do a shop, although the roads in this part of the work still suck.  But cinnamon rolls are an important good.

I have learned that I need to wear my orthotics indoors, so I’m going to get house shoes and transfer my orthotics into them when I’m inside.  They will never so much as set foot outside the house.

We need to put more dirt down on the front steps, they are unbelievably slippery.


1000 words tonight.  I’m at about 31K words on the new Jesse book. Jeff’s helping with assembling MMCo for publication!! so exciting.  Course all I wanna do is write.  The rest of all that stuff is superbly snoreworthy, at least to a lazy bum like I.

Birthday thoughts

I got 8 and a half hours of sleep today; woke up to Jeff saying it’s good you’re awake Paul and Keith are taking you to dinner! so I rolled out of bed and we went to the Union Jack and had Stuffed Yorkies. I did have a raspberry mojito, but they were on special, and after I had a Shirley Temple, which is different from place to place and the current reigning champeen is served at Brown’s.

Starting to get a routine; come home, stay away until about 9:30 catching up with Jeff and watching PVR stuff, then to bed in two shifts – or one, like today. Up no later than 10, take my vitamins brush my teeth, fix my lunch and out the door I go.  Catch the bus at 10:30 and stroll into work right on time. Coming home the buses hook up so well I’m home in literally half an hour.

I drink tea at night. I’m not drinking coffee unless I’m on days.  I’ve pretty much had to stop drinking beer since starting to work full time so you can just imagine how in-trim my liver’s going to be by Friday, when Mike’s taking me to a gastropub for dinner.

Tomorrow morning I’ll be going to Keith and Paul’s for breakfast and to pick up my glasses which (fingers crossed) Keith will have been able to fix.

Then home for sleepiebyes and one more shift for the week and then it all starts over again on Sunday at 11 pm.

I have to work 4 day shifts at the beginning of December and days in this job are proof that god hates you so yuck, but it’s all money and there are supervisors to consult when things **** up, so yay.

I got almost FIFTY BIRTHDAY WISHES on facebook and five private email wishes for birthday joy, so don’t let anybody tell you I have no friends, which would include me saying it.

My day card was Justice; my ‘year ahead’ tarot reading was wonderful and involves shitpiles of work, coordination and consolidation.


YES I am still writing, but my regular part time hours will be less of a kick in the goolies, and that won’t happen until well after the beginning of December, so I guess my deadline of December 12 is now officially toast.  I do understand a) how I’m going to finish it and b) that it is probably going to be at least 15K words shorter than I was expecting, but I won’t really know until it’s done.


I has another dreffle sad

Miss Margot bit and clawed the living shit out of me last night as I was petting her.

My description of her behaviour made Nancy LF. on Facebook advise me to check into this ailment.  Jeff and I have noted many times that Margot is not neurotypical. We didn’t think much of it, bu she’s shown every symptom to me except one.

I think whatever is wrong with her is not being helped by Buster’s continual bullying/play requests; she’s definitely stressed.

Diagnosis will be expensive, but she’s obviously unhappy, and something’s gotta shift.

No MMCo today

Jeff and I hosted Paul’s birthday last night. I got tired and went to bed at nine (folks came by at two, which is fine, because the Alex was one of them.) Also that might have something to do with the fact I was up at 2 am YESterday too.

Watching Paul with Alex. Alex pretends to feed him chili, Paul pretends to eat it, the two of them laugh like drains. This went on for about ten minutes.  I got one decent pic, which mOm already has.  He’s laughing so hard his face is almost blurry.

Alex refers to himself as Ack. This is charming. He is now speaking in perfectly intelligible sentences of two or three or four or even five words. Then the next thing he says is gibberish, right about the time you were thinking of boasting.

Nita, Keith, Alex, Katie, Peggy and Tom, Mike and Cassidy and Rob Warner all came by.   Plus Cassidy gave preserves to Paul which he will enjoy mightily.  Her southern rellies put magic in that woman’s kitchen….NOM.

Alex on his belly watching Jeff fix the deck with a screwdriver, and calling him Unca Jeff quite clearly. Playing with the hose and running all over the yard. Playing with the posture ball.

He was so busy he never even got to play on the pinballs!

Extra special hugs to cousin Lindsay for singing happy birthday to her uncle! That was very cheering.

Happy people eating chili. I made vegan chili and I’m glad, I tell you.

Much very good beer including Dageraad.

Heart full of gratitude, mind full of I HAZ NOT ENOUGH SLEEP.

Thus the pause today on the writing.  Back tomorrow, have no fear.

Mommishness outbreak

Keith came over last night, in a rather unhappy state.  His unhappiness made me cry – I cry at the most ludicrous things these days, but I’m not inclined to feel shame about it – and I stuck to the issue, which was his state, not mine.

We reviewed his life situation for stressors. My very flat recital of them at one point made Keith laugh, which he hadn’t done since he arrived, and concluded with, “And if I know you, not a day goes by when you don’t think, “Is today the day I’m going to lose it?” And then he laughed loud and long and said, “Got it in one.”

His feelings are real and justified against his situation.  They are not to be mocked or bulldozed over.  I listened more than I talked. I provided advice, but after 10 minutes of mom time, one beer and the first hour of The Right Stuff he was much more regulated when he left.

I told him that he should think about going back to school.  He said, “I could teach.”

I was amazed.  He actually could, he explained it. I told him to apply ASAP. And to think about school in January.  He said, “There’s no money,” and I said, “Commit to a course of action and the means will appear.” Of course that means elders conferring regarding the means, but hey.  If people hadn’t helped me out financially for no good reason at certain points during my life I wouldn’t be in the pleasant position of getting to worry about my kids.

When he was born a friend paid for a full astrological natal chart.  The results: He is an old soul.  He’ll either be a great teacher or a petty criminal, specifically a drug dealer.

Since this was the first time anybody in the woowoo divination game had said anything negative in my experience, it kinda stuck with me. I mean who predicts that your kid will be a drug dealer? Given Keith’s abstemious and cautious nature, it’s probably one of the funniest arrows ventured at the future I’ve ever heard of.


Just in case you’re planning on being interrogated.

Rewatch of Burn Notice (god, I love that show) and ER (it’s a challenging show and I love it too). Thinking about a Homicide rewatch.

Anybody who can see the throughline between Burn Notice and what I’m currently writing …. yeah, it’s there. The supercompetent guy who’s so rarely at a loss. Also I’m rereading Niccolo. Some cross-contamination is inevitable.

Jeff took me to brekky, and after many hints I made banana bread yesterday, and did some laundry and practiced mandolin, and talked to Keith on the phone, and wrote 2000 words in two lots, first thing and around 3 pm.

Today I need to go for a walk quite desperately.  If I don’t hear from Paul I’ll probably take a trek over to David’s Market.

Thinking about chicken schnitzel later.  It’s cooled off so much that I’m thinking of more cooking and baking.  The summer fell off a Labour Day cliff by the feel of things.

Alex the wondergrand

I got to see Alex yesterday at his momma’s house (Katie is doing very well) and he smiled his face off to see me. Then I gave him my three pound barbell (after all, it SAYS Alex on the side) and he started lifting, bro, which was hilarious, (good form too, even funnier) and then he rolled it all over the floor and then he started dropping the sumbitch, more than once, and this look came over his face – every parent knows it – and after some kind and pleasant voiced persuasion (his mother doesn’t yell at him unless it’s life or death and Alex is more compliant than any child his age I’ve known, as he really really wants to keep his mother happy) Alex went back to rolling it across the floor.  He has learned to say ‘antenna’ which is very sweet.

He has crossed some kind of developmental barrier which allows him to consider things rather than assuming that it’s bad and he should proceed immediately to a-wailin’ and a-grizzlin’.  He didn’t even come close to even thinking about crying the entire time I was there.  The last month has also been amazing in terms of language development. It’s very clear that he understands virtually everything that’s said to him and his speech is becoming clear enough to understand.  I was out of the room and he was toddler-arguing with his mother so I called are you grumpy Alex? and he said, just like a teenager would, No!

No sign of being interested in toilet training.  For this summer camping trips were invented.

He played for a very long time with my Cat Alone app. BUG! BUDAFY!

“DO YOU WANT THE FINGER ALEX” is actually a question appropriate to the game. (If he presses on the magic finger that appears it vibrates and buzzes.)

No pictures. I have memories of a sunny faced toddler running like a fool all over his apartment while issuing sticky kisses and high fives. This from last summer, Prismafied, will have to do.


There were castor bean and nightshade plants on the walk back to the car.  New West, it’ll kill ya.

Ray Donovan was awesome, Dark Matter was okay I guess (fave continues to be 5, played by Jodelle Ferland), Killjoys is ramping up with great scripts and performances and then Keith and Paul came over yesterday to watch the Sugar episode of Addicted to Pleasure, and that was very nice.

Ghostbusters is still on at the International Village Cineplex. I should have gone last night but whatever.

I bought a battery backup for my phone (since you can’t actually replace the battery on a One S, god strake them in thayre tendre partes) and then, in a sudden blinding flash of You Know the MacBook is Doomed Since the Interior goes to 84 degrees C every time you run video and components will inevitably blow you fool! I purchased a replacement in the form of a MacBook Air, from London Thugs. I backed up the old one, Time machined the new one, everything took an hour and worked perfectly (except having to enter brOJeff’s ludicrously lengthy wifi password three times, o well) and now I have a computer with twice the power, half the weight, three times the storage and a much faster video processor. Everything I need to work transferred over without difficulty including Scrivener and Finale, the two really big ones for creative work. I’d like to publicly thank Jeff for providing the backup drive.  All part of adulting….

No I can’t afford it.  But I definitely can’t afford not to, so there you go.


Fairly busy weekend

Today it’ll be cleaning, then hanging with Mike, then brunch with this dude I met at Lorraine’s birthday gathering at the track (which, as I think I mentioned, was a truly awesome event). He makes brunch once a month as a fundraiser / can gatherer for the Food Bank and pics from previous events showing people from 6 months to 65 years old cheerfully consuming pamcakes in a sunny kitchen are tremendously appealing. Also it will be super easy to get to on transit, always a consideration.

There will be laundry and editing in there too someplace.

Then Monday, Leo and Linda. YAY!


Ran into Kirsten at Deer Lake Park yesterday.  Her sister has a three legged dog too, which is very kind of them both.  Keith and Paul were accompanying me.  We saw a coyote as we entered the park which makes all the people who ignored us because they were wearing headsets rather amusing in a sick way.  Hey, we tried to tell them but they just wouldn’t listen.

After I got back I mowed the whatever it is that’s growing on the property.  It is no longer grass in the front yard, and the mere act of turning the mower around created immense divots in what’s left of the turf. The back isn’t so bad but it doesn’t get so dry (we never water). The house is a tear down, so we’re never going to get new sod. C’est la vie.

I got the orthotics, and twice crossed the Pattullo Bridge, which is under construction and an amply proportioned clusterfuck at the best of times. WHILE I was trying to get across the mofo’ing bridge northbound, a guy leaned out of his truck and said in a heavy Arabic accent “I give you three thousand dollars cash right now for your car” and I casually explained that it wasn’t going to happen, and he started upping the bid, reaching five thousand, leading me to explain that it a) it wasna my car and b) it was not for sale for any price. Then the traffic shifted and I stopped having to deal with him. Wish I’d taken the camera, Jeff might have been entertained by the convo.  Entertainingly, these convos always happen more in the summer.

Went and got beer and groceries and a few treats, and we ate store chicken, home made salad and corn on the cob for dinner.

Forgot to mention that we saw a grouse by the side of the road when we went up Mt Washington last week.

I will be adjusting to the orthotics by wearing them about two hours a day until I’m completely used to them. They feel pretty comfortable but I’ll know better how they are later.

Watched Eye in the Sky and Wave. Very much enjoyed both movies, but I liked Wave more since it is a classic style disaster movie, leaving no trope unturned, but effectively and non-cheesily played out.



10879 word count

Not making fantastic progress, but I washed dishes and put the now clean front hall mat and upstairs sofa cover back down, got out of the house to feed Ayesha and get deodorant and laundry deterg and  – chocolate – which I have stashed somewhere in the house so Jeff and I don’t devour it.

I can’t find the power supply and connector cables for the other external drive Jeff loaned me.  I don’t know what the hell happened to them but they are not in my room.  I never would have thrown them out but Jeff assures me they were all together.  It’s very annoying, and now I have to figure out how to get replacements.

I am about to have a flurry of engagements – today feeding Ayesha plus hanging with the American Thanksgiving blowout at Tom and Peggy’s (they have a cross border Christmas Cookie fest every year because they have TWO OVENS.) Supper with Mike.  A visit with Alexander somewhere in there. Sunday afternoon hanging out with Janice L and her roomie.

Thus the deodorant.  It’s actually an odorant, but everyone calls it deodorant.

I’ve actually written 180 more words this morning, let’s see where this chapter goes.


Lotza words

Fifteen hundred or so yesterday. How would you like a Sixer to turn up on your 21st floor balcony? Well, if you had just had a family meal where your stepmother excoriated you for two hours about how you were the stupidest woman alive for not finding a way of making money out of Sixers WHEN YOU MET THEM AND HOW STUPID ARE YOU ANYWAY maybe you’d greet them more cheerfully than you running around in a nightie might suggest.

Besides, everyone trusts Michel.  He does what he says and stays out of stuff that isn’t his business. Or does he?  Only time will tell…

Gave Katie a driving lesson the other day, one of the advantages of Paul leaving me the car.

It is always good to be able to help friends and family.  I made sure Keith and Paul had a meal prepped in their fridge (cannelloni cilantro almond & onion salad plus Singapore style noodles I’d picked up earlier) and picked them up at Edmonds after their trip to Toronto/London (yes, Paul met up with Carrie and Keith, bless him, poked his head in on The Vampire Family, which makes me very, very happy)  and handed over the car.  Of course if it hadn’t been on a night of the full moon I wouldn’t have been awake, but them’s the breaks, and they broke the right way.

Three loads of laundry yesterday.  Practiced mandolin already this morning. Poor Margot doesn’t know she’s going back to the vet tomorrow but she’s obviously suffering, poor lamb.  I put her favourite rug in the wash just now along with the upstairs sofa cover, since various babies and cats have been yielding up their valuable inner resources onto them both of late.

I didn’t know that Jean Webster had published anything beside Dear Enemy and Daddy-Long-Legs so I’m going to be checking out the other books on Gutenberg today.  It annoys me that she died so young in childbirth; she should have lived to be a hundred.