I have Spanx

and other irrelevancies.  “She” – the proprietor of the Quay Lingerie store on 6th –  said it would take off a dress size; what she neglected to mention was that the set of far from graceful undulations by which one achieves ingress to this garment is what will take the pounds off.  You’ll be sweating with equine effect by the time you’re into it.  I wore it out of the store, I was too exhausted to take it off.
I also purchased an outfit for Sin City.  It’s black and red and meets the minimum criteria.
I’d like to alternately scold and shout out for Keith; he told me and Mike to come by when Janice was sleeping over – at best thoughtless – BUT he did fork over all the remaining Strangers in Paradise which Mike hadn’t yet read, very appropriate since it was Mike that got all of our family (excluding Paul, he never warmed to it) into Strangers in Paradise in the first place.

My hairs have been cut.  I’m wearing a disturbing amount of sealant, tamer, and other assorted mop mung.  Now for more laundry, a brief nap and later, pho on Kingsway.

Hurry weekend

My weekend started with me sitting ON MY BALCONY – literally the first time since I moved in that I sat on the balcony with somebody – and drinking panty remover, which is the nicest thing you can call Mike’s Hard Cranberry lemonade (note to self, bleaaaagh) with a friend.  Fortunately there’s a big jug of fruit juice.  And soon, the salad with hard cooked eggs.
The rest of the weekend hasn’t happened yet.

Katie’s birth certificate FINALLY ARRIVED.  Note how I’ve kept my cakehole shut, because this situation has had me in seizures since the last time I complained of it here.

Other matters remain undecided and likewise sidewise.  I should make phone calls.  Apparently I’m helping with a documentary next week.  More details as they become available.

Also, Sin City.  It’s been an age since I went, and it should be peerlessly entertaining.

Also, I’m thinking of maybe finally buying a television.

I think I’ll finish rewatching Meet the Feebles. I got … uh … distracted, the last time I tried to watch it.

Better….

One of the effects of Pride Day was a kink (very funny…) in my right shoulder from helping carry the banner.  However, Mike has been here and after he doused me in grapeseed oil and worked on me for about half an hour, I felt much better and got up this morning with everything from my foot feeling less numb (unexpected bonus!) to much less pain elsewhere.  He also brought my guitar back from Baumfest, which was almost two weeks ago.

We started the evening at Simba’s on Edmonds because Dosza Hut was closed for kitchen renos…. a drag as both of us had a major dosa jones…. but the meal at Simba’s, including Kenyan Tusker Beer, was a sensory delight in a very peaceful and humane setting…  Best of all was being served by an Asian woman in a dashiki. Welcome to Vancouver, please check your tired old expectations at the door.

Someplace in Chinatown Mike scored a traditional chinese jacket with frog closings and traditional style pants – in fatigued jeans material.  The overall effect is so “Serenity” that it has to be seen to be appreciated.  Especially with that ‘red flag to a bull’ do-rag.  And the long hair. Oh, and he’s clean shaven now, for those who care.  He took a week off his unfulfilling in the extreme McJob and is relaxed.
Now that my resemblance to a human being has been improved so much, I think I’ll go to work and do something remunerative for my efforts.

I bought a camera (and two gigs of SD and other camera accoutrements and a cutting board and a proper paring knife) last night before Mike called.  I had been on the verge of going home, feeling very lonely because the previously made plans to go into New West didn’t fly, and then…. a friend with a convertible shows up.

More on Pride

Met up with Al Sather, the minister’s husband, on Robson, more or less by accident, after Patricia said farewell (she went to the beach to do yoga, healthy chica that she is). We sat in the wrong spot for a while and then joined with the rest of the U*U’s. Peggy and I and some other woman – me and my distinctly dopey inability to get names at appropriate junctures – carried the Beacon banner. Then the Parade was so late getting going that Al had to jam to go pick up Katie Sather from the airport, as she was returning from being with her father at the close of his life. I light a candle for Katie and her family.

There was a large, active and CELEBRATORY bunch of U*U youth there, who kept up the energy level in the mindblowing heat. Fortunately the breeze kept up for most of the parade. Katie K, who went through at float 28 (we were back at 128) was done by one, but I didn’t get to sit down and relieve me feet (among other portions of my anatomy) until 2:52. Continue reading More on Pride

Personal remarks is rude

Okay, yesterday was a day crowded with life and incident.  Woke up around six and reheated naan and chanar bhatur (sp?) for brekky, with mint tea.  Jeff dozed while I went downstairs and did a very scant and not very repetitive 20 minute workout…. okay, of all the movies, in all the world, on all of IMDB, which movie is on TV when I come downstairs?  A Monty Python movie, and I walk in in the last minute of the Parrot Sketch, which segues into the Lumberjack Song.

Good morning, Burnaby!!! 

While I’m in the weight room, this Asian dude in his early twenties, dressed a la Jackie Chan (ie, no shirt) and holding a clear plastic container that you could tote two or three dead babies in (just to give you some idea of the volume) comes in, fires money into the drink machine, removes a soda at speed, and departs like vapour under a door.

At this point, the day signs are all REALLY pointing to a truly spectacular day.  It was not until 24 hours after this moment that I discovered that I had not, indeed, packed underthings.  Time is no more linear than memory is.

Ahem.  Anyway, working backwards from this moment, I watched Coronation Street, drank coffee, took a shower, woke up, dreamed all night about somebody (Patricia knows who, and is laughing at me), crashed at Patricia’s, came back to Patricia’s from Leanne’s place, watched fireworks, ate Greek, shot the breeze, hung out at Lexi’s (and got just enough into a Colette bio to get my mouth all ready for more – who could resist something called Secrets of the Flesh by Judith Thurman).

Prior to that I spent a glorious afternoon with Katie K and got sunburnt.  Prior to that I went to an NDP fundraiser at which Jack Layton spoke.  It was the 12th annual NDP Pride Brunch.

Now, whatever your private opinion of Jack Layton, here is one simple truth that will not go away.  He was one of the first Canadian politicians of any stripe who stood with gay people.  Like, marched in Pride Day, voted in favour of it at City Council meetings in Toronto, took the time as a young politician to hear what it was like to be a gay man in Canada in the sixties and seventies and on hearing the story thought, “This sucks, and I’m going to DO something about it.”  When he gets up and starts reminiscing about ‘my first Pride’ he’s got 25 or so years of Pride to be proud about. 

Moved by the mindless obedience which characterizes so much of my behaviour, I bid on something – a night in a hotel, and won.  Zoing…. Now my brain leaps forward, into the fireworks, which, apart from Michael jeezly Bolton music (Patricia’s disgust was subtle but effective) were truly, deeply wonderful.

To return to something like conventional chronology, after our brief repast and some messing around on the intertnests, Jeff drove me to the hotel where the NDP function was, which, strangely enough, was four blocks from Lexi’s place.  Among other speeches there was a list of four recent queer rights issues raised in countries overseas – Bolivia, Poland, South Africa and India.  I was particularly impressed by the references to trans issues because there are definitely ongoing legal and humanitarian issues about transgender and transsexual rights, globally.

But holy cats, imagine marching in the first Polish Pride Day!  Ten t’ousand marchers and seven bleeding thousand cops, militia and regular army to stop you from getting your faces stomped in!?  I’m marching in Pride this morning and the only gun that will get pulled on me is a super soaker.  One of the organizers of the first Polish Pride will be a grand marshal of this year’s Pride Parade.  I’m sure it will make a nice change from what he went through in Poland.

As you may ascertain from the foregoing, it was a busy day.  I only drank three beers all day, I stayed close to a bathroom, I didn’t lose my blanky, and all was well.

Dinner

Went out to dinner at the Keg with Katie K last night.  I had an excellent time.  The rest of yesterday was domestic stuff – all my clothes are clean tra la la –  and scanning photos and shipping them off to my mom.
Daughter Katie is supposed to turn up and give herself a Harry Potter readathon sometime this week, we just haven’t scheduled when yet.

Sundry and Various

Muriel P died on Friday.  I talked to Jim P tonight and he’s doing okay; he and Carly are going to Ottawa for the memorial service on Friday.

I didn’t know her at all, and only met her twice, once when Keith was weeks old, and once at her husband’s funeral.

I am working on a long poem called (the difficulties).

Jeff and I nearly ran over a deer yesterday in Jeff’s car – a young buck wandering across the Gaglardi/University Drive East intersection (and about 30 meters from the last place I nearly hit a deer myself, on the ramp in a thick fog.  Did I jump!).  Jim and Jan have a cougar story, but I’d prefer them to tell the story, so I’ll wait until they send it to me 😉

The sunset is so stunning I nearly burst into tears when I saw it.  I am absurdly sensitive to colours and scenery these days, it’s like everything was turned up maximum gain.

I am so glad to be writing again, and I practiced mandolin for about 45 minutes tonight, too.

Actually bought fresh fruits and vegetables and ATE THEM.  It’s driving me nuts, I’m point two of a pound away from breaking 180.  Hopefully quitting coffee, with all that cream and sugar, will push things in the right direction.

Keith’s B-day tomorrow – Robert Anson Heinlein’s today

The four of us are planning to get together for his birthday. I already bought his present but it will probably arrive next week.

Had the folks over for beers last night; in attendance, Melissa, Ryan, Brian C, Jarmo and Rob of Nine, who was, unfortunately, not able to massage my printer into compliance as there is no driver for it. Drat.

After they all left, Swampy came over for a beer and told me that things are going much more smoothly than he anticipated and it was just really pleasant to have him here – and we discussed a couple of books, including Focusing and The Dosadi Experiment (which is basically a fast forward through Dune without the religion and with a kickass courtroom scene at the end). Then at nine my date came over. We sat outside next to the fountain until about the fourth time he slapped a mosquito (imagine that… a guy who gets bit by mosquitoes more than I do!?) at which point I said that I found it unconscionably inhospitable to contribute to his discomfort so, and besides, there was beer and a bathroom back at my place…

So I guess I’ve had a very sociable weekend already and it ain’t even noon on Saturday yet.

Today is the 100th centenary of Heinlein’s birth. How I wished he could have become a blogger. Okay, I don’t but it makes me laugh to think about how he would have talked about the last three or four sets of American governments.

I talked to Kira on the phone today.  She was purring.  Zeek!, thank heaven, is back to his old self and the bloody spot under his chin has cleared up.  His bloodwork came back okay so the 1200 vet bill Paul and I were looking at turned out not to be necessary.

Keith will come by today before work with more Aubrey/Maturin for me.  (more, more more!) and some other media for me to peruse (hopefully Fables III and IV).

I watched Denis Leary’s music video of Asshole last night.  I always liked the song, but the video was brilliant, IMO.

Facebook is extremely amusing, and I’m having loads o’ fun with it.  Mostly poking people.  I’ve gotten into a poking contest with two people; I know that sounds rude, but it’s harmless virtual primate fun.

Here’s a cool “matrix style” domestic argument, from Japanese TV.

glad news, sad news

My philosophical buddy Avinash called and reminded me to be rational – it was a lovely conversation.  I met him while I was running the Simplicity Meetup group last year.

Katie has a job!!!! She picked it out, applied, interviewed her new boss as hard as he interviewed her, and I am very proud of her.

Lady Miss Banjola is a pharmacist! Dred her blisterpakking skillz!

I have come to the conscious decision to let go of some stuff and it hurts, but it’s kind of a good hurt, if you know what I mean.  I’m talking material stuff.

Sad news…. Cali, Tom and Peggy’s kitty, aetat 24, is v. poorly and not going to make it.