Settler words&music in S'ólh Téméxw, (leanpub.com/upsun) living where privilege meets precarity in MST country. she/her/they———– Novels: Midnite Moving Co., Upsun; Sweep Off Those Waves coming soon, Hair Sinister after that. —Restore All Indigenous Lands!
Until this morning, when I learned of the existence of Kate Middleton, I didn’t know where the term paparazzi came from. It came from the name of a photographer in Fellini’s La Dolce Vita who was in turn named after a school chum whose nickname was Paparazzo – “Mosquito”.
Kate Middleton is somebody or other’s girlfriend, and as far as I know, she doesn’t have a blog. She doesn’t have to, with half the scurvy press outside her door.
Four dry cups tricolori noodles, boiled and drained
2 – 4 chicken breasts minced (I used a food processor)
Basil, parsley, garlic, black pepper, a leedle bit salt
Cheese sauce (about a cup of grated cheese, flour, butter) – make it runny
Can mushrooms
Assemble in casserole dish, slap on lid and cook for an hour at 350 F
Yummy. Intensely foodlike, and a definite step up from KD.
There are two thousand and counting WordPress ‘themes’ which I could be using for this blog. Glenn was here this afternoon and we mucked things around until it was all more or less working. I seem to have lost some of the January posts, but frankly, apart from the moose pic you aren’t missing much. Also, the links don’t seem to be working for the archive – although they were working earlier this afternoon.
Lady Miss Banjola needs little introduction to my readers. A wonderfully intelligent and only mildly chaotic force for good in the universe, she is a woman of many gifts. I welcome her! I welcome her usefulness and her sarcasm! I welcome her superhero capes! and when I can find a camera whose lens won’t break at the prospect, I’ll take a picture of the one she made me last fall.
Katie bailed on work yesterday, which, considering she was exhausted from the social whirl earlier this week, was wise. She watched Ice Age and Titan AE, drank hot chocolate, and went to bed early. She’s also made the decision to get herself free of the restaurant job, as the hours are just too long for her to manage that and school. It was very pleasant to have her at home yesterday evening, and I rewatched my favorite scenes from Ice Age (the Tae Kwon Dodos (apologies to the Finn Family Kanata) and the slide scenes) and tried to watch the first ten minutes of Titan AE and just couldn’t do it. I’m thinking the last anime I watched with any pleasure was Ghost in the Shell II, and that’s much the standard I’m holding anime to.
Her boyfriend is taking her to Evanescence later this month! It’s been ages since she went to a concert. I’m going to the Vancouver Lesbian and Gay Choir “Heat” concert later this month, and much looking forward to it.
I’m packing up an “Ooopsie” package for my folks. I completely forgot to give my pOp the control panels for the inverter I gave him last month, nor did I, in my excitement at the prospect of seeing the folks, remember to include the manual. Duh, as they say.
Speaking of Duh, may I welcome to the comments section, Duh, who not three days ago emailed me to ask me if I was who I was – after we hadn’t spoken for something like 30 years. Duh is a high school buddy of mine currently living in the US but working on coming back to the People’s Republic of Canuckistan. Duh always was that combination of rude and intelligent that I really like in a fellow primate, so it is with apprehension and amusement that I welcome him back into my life. Welcome, Duh!
I wiped the sleep out of my eyes and discovered that somebody invented a cure for cancer. It’s amazing what happens on the Interwebs when you’re asleep! Oh, darn. There’s the fine print, it hasn’t been tested in humans. Okay, I can go back to sleep now. The reference is on Bruce Sterling’s weblog, in case you have any interest.
Today will be more like a full and proper day at work, with a full complement of staff, which means I should have my lunch bunch back in one fine ensemble of photography afiocionados.
Irina in the caf is quitting wah! To get more education and higher pay, yay! Honest to God, everytime I hear her say, “Biscotti” in that heavy heavy Russian accent, I shiver in pleasure. I’ve given her the recipe twice now – she was frantic when she misplaced it during her move – and I was commiserating with her about how the results are even better in a gas stove but you have to watch it like a hawk because it burns so much more readily. I know that a girl’s supposed to have a signature recipe that she possessively clings to, but I’ve always given the recipe to anybody who asked for it, and dang, I’ve posted it to my blog twice…
I finished mailing out the co-op applications; now let’s see who wants somebody with a fair amount of non-profit experience… who won’t need a subsidy.
My to do list magically got bigger during the night. Has this ever happened to you???
In the face of overwhelming odds, I maintained my sanity; I performed laundering and cleaning of dishes and emptying of cat litter (whoo-wee), I mailed off about twenty application requests to co-ops, I walked around downtown in the rain with Keith a lot, visited Doug and L.E., heard cuts off Odditorium, watered some plants (after trying to open the wrong fricking door, thank God the tenants weren’t home), I called a bunch of people to wish them a happy new year (and only people I really felt like talking to, and mostly got voicemail) and talked to Maggie and cleared up a misunderstanding. Gosh I’m dense sometimes. I’m okay with that.
Picture is of a headline from a local newspaper. I would like to be subtle about this, but there are a couple of other laughs on this front page, so I implore you to examine the entire image for chuckles.
Ah yes. There is a ghost in the machine, and his name is Glen. Some of you may be aware that the picture with the snake was the size of a dinner table; Glen held his peace for a couple of days and then without comment resized it.
The first time my website was live, it had nothing but a bunch of pornographic writing in it; that pesky spirit. I’m a pro porn feminist, so I was irritated without being scandalized. Most of my irritation came from a feeling I get rather more often than I ought, which is HEY I can do better than *that*.
People who know me know my flinching muscles work over time. I am an extremely tic’y kinda person, and I actually sat down and tried to review all of my personal tics, and I’m too smart to write the list down anywhere but it certainly got interesting before I lost track of how many I have. Then I reviewed a list of all the things that can happen during sex to make me completely reset to zero, and that made me want to phone Paul and apologize to him; I must be a sore trial to that man. Strangely he only really complains once in a long while. Really, the inside of my head never ceases to be of more fascination than television, lawn bowling (I typed blowing at first, and wish I’d left it that way) and everything else except the internet.
Pic is Paul’s.
Random pic, taken somewhere close to home (2019 edit – by katie, at the skate park on Sixth at Eighth.) Had a great time at Jim and Carol’s last night. Saw the Otto-man, Jerome, Megan & Jenna & Sergei, Tom U., Brian C, Chari (who was in fine form on the subject of marriage), Sarah & Ian, Jim and Carol of course and their neighbour Heather who’s just back from a year in Europe. Mike bailed, no reason given.
Today the board retreat – was supposed to provide coffee and I bought some but of course I am not a decaf drinker so I had to phone Michael and ask him to ask Elaine to pack some, as it doesn’t occur to me to purchase it, shudder. Decaf. I spit at decaf!
Katie was home before we were, phoned up asking plaintively where we were. Nice to have the shoe leather on other foot sez I. Keith is going to try to make the Saturday Karate class. And ask a girl out. Wish him luck.
animated smiley faces in business f*cking email correspondence!!! Jumping Jiminy Crickets but that p*sses me right off. I KNOW people mean well, but grrrrr ……
Lexi if you’re reading this the link to the parody of Never Set the Cat on Fire (and there was a guy convicted of that today, fancy that!? found at Fark.com) is at http://www.speakeasy.org/~mamandel/filks/Darwin.html. I laughed until I cried the first time I tried to sing my way through that. Keith is inordinately fond of it as well.
I experienced the embarrassment of having my clothing disassemble as I was coming down the stairs to lunch today. Of all the stupid days NOT to wear a bra, there I am, gone SPUNG into space so I have to skate off into the bathroom clutching my chest. Managed to fix my zipper but I’m scared to breathe now. Watch it happen again at the party tonight, but I’ll be two beers gone and find it amusing instead of paralyzing. Hey Mike! My clothing flew apart and you weren’t there! Just kidding. I suppose it could be worse, I could have done that in front of a bunch of investors. On the other hand… no, let’s NOT go there.
I did phone Katie (it’s an item of clothing she frequently wears) and politely ask her if she’d booby-trapped it. So to speak. Every word of this is true, I have witnesses. Unfortunately, they are all too traumatized to corrugate my story at the moment. (Roger Rabbit reference, that wasn’t a typo.)
Just cleared the front door from the John Hiatt concert at the Vogue. That was one of the best concerts I have ever been to. When he fired up Ethylene and Riding with the King and Gone and Thunderbird it was like watching a man high on joy do what he most wanted in the whole world. Tremendous audience rapport and respect. Opening was an interesting singer songwriter named John Dee Graham from Austin TX – which is an amazing city for music and the arts these days. He sang a song in Spanish and a bunch of self written ditties and a king hell version of You Gotta Walk that Lonesome Valley which sent chills down my spine. I would have posted a pic from John’s website but the cunning webmaster has fixed it so you can’t copy stuff from the site.
John Hiatt played Icy Blue Heart, making Lexi’s wish come true from Saturday night. He had no set list. He said I’m 52 I am too old for a set list. He also said there are only two things you need to know about God. He exists, and he isn’t you. In attendance me, Paul, Lexi, Rob, Jacquie, Unca Barry and Keith. Neville bailed; meshuggas with seating.
Well, Pride Day went off reasonably well. I got a nasty sunburn on my neck and lightly crisped around my Anglo edges (both of my grandfathers were born in Angleterre after all and pappy is a redhead). Being in the parade is very different from seeing it.
Katie is being difficult at the moment. This difficulty can’t be talked about because it would be disrespectful, doncha know. At least she’s been sober. I suppose I shouldn’t complain. Arranged another trek to Night Market next Friday. Am attempting to assembler ma merde in an effort to make another cloak, this time for me.
I am very worried about Ann Coulter. I think the poor woman isn’t well; I long to feed her peach pie and tell her it’s going to be okay even if George Bush doesn’t win the election. I’m also sad because she doesn’t like hairy women, and I’m hairy and I can’t do much about it because my husband likes me that way and I read in the Bible that women are to be subject to the rule of their husbands. So even if I made a peach pie for her, you know, the church lady thing, she probably wouldn’t eat it.
So what I want to know is when I run across a difference of opinion between Ann Coulter and the revealed word of the Lord, should I play safe and do it Ann’s way? I mean, she’s a lot closer than God appears to be at the moment. She’s been on Nightline and God’s never so much as returned Larry King’s calls. (Note to infrequent readers. I DON’T HAVE CABLE. I’VE NEVER SEEN NIGHTLINE. I DON’T WATCH NETWORK TV. EVERYTHING I KNOW ABOUT THESE PEOPLE I LEARNED FROM THE INTERNET.) I must admit the image section of Ann Coulter’s website is one of the most unintentionally hilarious things I’ve ever seen, not that I’m encouraging you to look. You know every time I see her, I think of what my dear old pappy sometimes says when a good looking woman is brought to his attention; “She’s a nice enough looking girl but she looks underfed.” (Or words to that effect. The voice of tender concern for the health of the woman in question is what makes this opinion so remarkable – and you’ll have to forgive my father. He’s not very politically correct and does not understand the modern intricacies of the word girl, and how it can be used certain ways but not certain other ways).
Then I read Revelations and now I am exTREMEly worried, because I suspect that even if I do everything that I’m supposed to do to get into Heaven, or at least the Christian version of this idea, Heaven is going to be MUCH noisier than anticipated and while I have come across references to stopping up the ears I don’t see a specific reference to ear plugs in the revealed word of the Lord and I don’t think they’ll be issued once I get there, and I am still not sure whether I will have a physical or merely spiritual body; and thanks, I don’t WANT my gallbladder back if I am getting the other part of the “full” meal deal back, although I would groove on being 132 pounds again. WRT earplugs, I read Revelations and when it said and there was silence in heaven for the space of half an hour I thought (sacreligiously I own) it was about bloody time, with all the trumpets and clashing and lightning and people falling down. People fall down a LOT in Revelations, it got to the point I was suspecting that the spirit they were full of was overproof rum.
This next paragraph deleted, because I think I skidded off the pallet of discerning Biblical interpretation and I’m close to hell as it is. Believe me, it was funny.
I am in love with the Streets song Fit and You Know It. I’d be playing it right now but John hates it and he’s reading in the living room.