My other baby's birthday

Happy 9th birthday, Sputnik. You don't look a day over 8.

- practitioner of the art of lounging -

- owner of a messy toy box; can pick them out but never puts them back -
- wake me up when you get home from work -
- final survivor of the Christmas Day devastation -
- greedy guts cat -
- camouflage cat -
- Van Gogh's "Cat on a Blue Blanket" -
- piss off, it's my rocking chair -
- touch my ass and you are dead -
- kinder, gentler gardening cat -
Seems like only yesterday we brought home that wee funny coloured kitten with the sharp little claws the size of dental floss and the squeaky little meouw.

No surrender, no defeat: I am your pamphleteer

• I'm not even going to attempt to sum up what's been happening on Canada Reads thus far, mainly because my friend John is doing such a magnificent job of witty and thoughtful analysis on his blog, and also because host Bill Richardson has, against his better judgement, taken up blogging for the purposes of providing daily colour commentary on the sparring.

And it's not too late to jump in, as CBC has provided Real Audio and downloadable mp3 links of each day's show. Each show is only 30 minutes and the first vote took place off mic today. First thing tomorrow we find out which is the first book to get the boot. Will it be:

• Natasha and Other Stories by David Bezmosqis (defended by Stephen Page)
• The Song of Kahunsha by Anosh Irani (defended by Donna Morrissey)
• Children of My Heart (Ces Enfants de ma vie) by Gabrielle Roy (defended by Denise Bombardier)
• Stanley Park by Timothy Taylor (defended by Jim Cuddy)
• Lullabies for Little Criminals by Heather O'Neill (defended by John K Samson)

To show my solidarity for my homeboy, John K Samson, and the beautiful, funny and heartwrenching book that he is defending , I'll leave you with the always relevant Weakerthans. To the finish line, Lullabies for Little Criminals!

Pamphleteer [mp3] - the Weakerthans

I'm sure he will be making a future edition

I see some interesting sights on my commute.

Last week I was making the tricky merge from eastbound Memorial Drive onto southbound Deerfoot Trail (speed limit = 100 km/hr), in which you have a rather short stretch to get off the ramp and onto the freeway, whilst others are attempting to merge off Deerfoot and onto the same exit ramp. There's a lot of jostling for position at high speeds. And of course there are always those who obliviously toodle along in the exchange lane because they like it in that lane and they have no clue that others are attempting lane shifts at breakneck speeds.

I had my turn signal on and was waiting for an opportunity to make the move to the left, but there was this ramshackle truck right beside me in the lane that I wanted to enter - no turn signal - so I assumed he was continuing on straight.

I got up to merge speed, waiting for that all too brief opportunity to shift over, when suddenly the passenger door on the truck opened wide and a man leaned out of the truck (at 100 km/hr) and pointed at the front of my vehicle, all the while with a big grin on his face which nicely showcased the most amazing set of picket-fence chompers I have ever had the pleasure to lay eyes upon.

I thought he was telling me that I had a flat tire, but I quickly remembered that I have a sensor in my vehicle that causes an alarm to sound if the tire pressure becomes too low. I know this to be a fact because it goes off every god damned winter when the temperature drops suddenly. It always scares the bejeezus out of me.

And then I realized that he was telling me that he wanted to get into my lane. I started laughing my head off, as I backed off the accelorator so he could switch lanes and I didn't stop laughing till I got home.

It's not every day that you have an encounter with a human turn signal, but I'm pretty certain I'll be reading about him in the Darwin Awards one day.

---

On the opposite end of the intellectual spectrum, Canada Reads began today. Since Lullabies for LIttle Criminals is the only one of the five books which are contesting to be "the book that all of Canada should read" which I have actually read, it's pretty easy to decide which one I am cheering for. Besides I love the book and it is being advocated by the lovely and talented (and sensitive, it would seem, according to the tale about the plane ride and the mountain biking magazine reader) John K Samson of the Weakerthans (who formed 10 years ago this spring btw).

And it you can make any sense of the convoluted paragraph you just read, you are a better reader than I am a writer. Well done, you.

Canada Reads is only five days long - Monday to Friday on CBC Radio One at 11:30 am. Do try to catch it. It will be well worth the effort just for the back-stabbing and strategizing and arm-twisting.

I have a headache, but it was worth it

The raison d'etreI'm not sure if Jerry is fuzzy because of the big glass of wine in his hand or because of the one in the hand of the camera operator.There were about 30 revellers in attendance. Hugs and kisses were distributed with wanton abandon.The law of physics that applies to nature abhoring a vacuum has the same relevance in relation to parties and vacant chairs, which are quickly filled by someone scarfing a glass of wine and a jalepeno popper.

I think the blowing in Sandra's ear would be more effective if Eliz got a little closer.
hahaha I make my guests sit on a crappy old futon (or the floor).
The Marthas together in one room - that's always a recipe for trouble.And she wasn't even drinking.

One of Sputty's favourite spots during the party - a plastic bag on the kitchen floor. Cats are weird.
When Virg brings his guitar, Kelly finds some spoons, Jerry hauls out his dusty old harmonica that the old Scottish nun taught him to play, and Rick lends his dulcet tones, we don't need any fancy-assed playlist.

I wonder what the neighbours thought when we burned the mortgage on the front sidewalk at 12:30 am, with Virg leading us all in a rendition of "Ring of Fire"?

The aftermath.
It was such a fun party. We closed the door behind the last person at 1:25, which is an ideal time for a party to wrap up, in my books. You would almost think the guests had been reading this blog.
The only thing missing was you all.

and THAT is why I never clean the house

... because once I start, I mean really start, not just a fast pickup and a wipe, I cannot stop until I drop dead in a big puddle of sweat. It's nice to know that my obsessive-compulsive tendancies can be used for the powers of good, but this is just retarded.

So you know we're having this big party tomorrow night. And we are expecting about 40 people, all of whom could be expected to scrutinize our slovenly lives, if they so desire, so some cleaning was certainly required.

Our first mistake was changing all the burned out lightbulbs in the entranceway and the hallways leading to the bathrooms, which of course nicely highlighted just how scuzzy the walls were. It's the domino effect at its most evil here. My fingers are worn to nubs, my face looks like a ripe tomato, and there is sweat dripping off my head. But my fuck, the house looks GUUUUUD! In fact, I'm thinking I will not allow anybody in the house after all.

I cheated on my Friday random playlist this week. I needed something lively to get me through the house cleaning, and my computer started out with the Be Good Tanyas and then Ron Sexsmith, who are all very fine musicians, but they just don't cut it as house cleaning companions.
.
Instead, I put my (now 8 hour) party playlist on random. Now that's what I'm talking about:

1. Me and the Major - Belle and Sebastian

2. Small Parts - the Oohlas

3. Planet Claire - the B-52's

4. the Fallen - Franz Ferdinand

5. Girlfriend in a Coma - the Smiths

6. the Looks - MSTRKRFT

7. Ring the Bells - James

8. I Love You, Hipster Darling - the Awkward Stage

9. Confessions of a Futon-Revolutionist - the Weakerthans

10. Gold Lion - Yeah Yeah Yeahs

Hot stock tip of the day

In about 10 years the incidence of stroke is going to rise phenomenally, despite stroke prevention strategies, just due to the aging of the population. Stroke rehabilitation is going to be huge, especially once the government realizes that it costs far more to have longer lengths of stay in a stroke unit or, even worse, in a conventional unit, than it does to have early and aggressive occupational, physical and language/speech therapy.

Therapy is cheap compared to hospital stays and studies now confirm that the post-stroke time window for brain repair is optimal for therapeutic intervention at about 5 days post stroke. Do you know how long most people currently wait to get into therapy after stroke? Try a month or more.

So if you are looking for a hot career to invest in, try stroke rehabilitation/therapeutics. And once stem cell technology kicks in, hopefully around the same time, it’s going to be a perfect storm of health care reform. And no, I am not a rehab therapist. Nor do I own stocks in any therapy programs, although perhaps I should look into that. But I did sit through a really insightful seminar at work today.

Yesterday I survived my annual physical examination, and I must say that my physician has been working on his bedside manner in the past year. He didn’t even yell at me for being fat, even though I gained weight this year. Apparently morphing into peri-menopause is an excellent excuse for us fatties.

I still don’t like having a boy doctor though, especially while being violated in the stirrups. Somehow with a girl doctor, you can make jokes about them keeping the speculum in the fridge and such, but with a boy doctor, you just want to close your eyes and think of England.

So when’s your next appointment with the speculum or with the finger?

I will take this under advisement

You Are 78% Addicted to the Internet

In your opinion, life without the internet is hardly worth living. Could be, but you probably need a bit more fresh air and sunshine to think clearly.

Are You Addicted to the Internet?

I actually feared that I would fare much worse on that quiz, so there is hope for me yet.

So I am going to seize the day by the short and curlies and go out and get all that stuff done that needs doing.

I'll leave you with Lily Allen's newest video. I've been listening to her album Alright, Still ... quite a bit lately. I love her sass.

Oh crap, that vid cuts out before the end.

EDIT: Oh never mind, those geniuses atYouTube have fixed it. You can still watch the next video if you want, though.

To make up for it, here's Lily's great revenge video, Smile, which you've probably seen a zillion times before, but it's always good.

One good thing about living in Alberta ...

... is that we get a holiday in February, which nobody else gets. It's called Family Day and it was today and the concept was for people to spend time with their families, which I happily did.
Another thing I like about living in Alberta is ... nah, that's pretty much it, actually.
Now I'll probably start receiving scads of hate mail telling me to get the fuck out of the province if I don't like it, and those folks would have a valid point, but first let me clarify things somewhat by pointing out that the geography of this place is all wrong for me. I love lakes and trees and don't like mountains. I like a temperate climate that is slightly humid, where the vegetation is abundant and the sunlight is dappled and filtered through frequent clouds. That is pretty much the polar opposite of Alberta, at least the southern portion, where I live.
And don't even get me started on the political landscape, or the province's dependance upon the fossil fuel industry.

But even if I am not a huge fan of Alberta, there are some things which start with A which I do like. This idea for this list was shamelessly lifted from Bubs.

Six things which start with A which I like:

1. Argyle - socks, sweaters, sweater vests, it matters not what form it comes in, argyle is cool. And always chic. Or geeky chic, whatever your preference.

2. Avacados - in salads, dips, pastas, or eaten with a spoon out of the peel, these are tasty all year round. They may be high in oils, but it's a really healthful oil.

3. Ass-wipe - seriously, where would we be without this? And it's so versatile. Besides the obvious, you can use it to blow your nose, clean your glasses, probably even staunch a bad cut.

4. Anastamosis - I was originally referring to this in the physiological sense, specificially arterial-venous anastamosis, which is the branching between the aterial and the venous networks, but apparently there is an evolutionary definition as well. Anastamosis does it all.

5. Alsations - is there a prettier dog? Well, maybe a golden retriever, but look at those ears.

6. All-ages venues - I don't need to drink at a concert, but if people want to, what about using a wristband system or having a bar area? I love a band who makes their music accessible to everyone, not just people who have reached a certain birthday.

Oh Alberta [mp3] - Elliott Brood

getting funky with the grown-ups

We are having a party next weekend. It's been such a long time since I hosted a party, that I wasn't even sure where to begin anymore (well other than the obvious scouring of the toilet). So I bought these sassy cocktail napkins (pictured left) and they have formed the basis of my approach and my attitude toward the upcoming social event of the year. If I could have found ones that said "life is too short to clean the house for you people" I would have been all set, but alas, I'm afraid there is no getting out of that. So we've been spending the weekend cleaning the house like fiends and running around buying stuff that we don't normally buy.


I am, despite what it sounds like, really looking forward to this. The dead of winter is a great time to have a party. You don't have to worry about the house being too clean, if you just keep the lights low, and the curtains are all closed so the windows can be as scuzzy as they want to be. And with everybody inside with the windows shut, you don't have to be too conscious about bugging the neighbours either (although some of them are invited).



I used to have a lot of parties in university, but somehow the whole clean house thing didn't seem so onerous then. Either I was less of a slob then, the people I lived with were less slobby than my family, or I had a better perspective on cleaniness vs spontaneity. Damn you to hell, Martha Stewart and your evil minions!



And as a young mother, I hosted a lot of birthday parties. These were a tonne of work, but holy shit they were rewarding. My friend Brook and I both had Eva's who were the same age (we met after the kids were born - we're not that lame), and we used to help each other host the most spectacular bashes with games and treasure hunts and kick-ass birthday cakes that we made ourselves. I guess I had way too much time on my hands back then.



For this party, I was really chuffed to discover that the old computer speakers, which I hauled out of the basement, work with my laptop, so I am using that as my sound system. I made up a party playlist yesterday and although I tried to keep it down to songs that I really want to hear which are completely party-worthy, the playlist is still 7 1/2 hours long. I hope to hell the party doesn't last that long! Actually after 6 hours, I plan to switch to another playlist which I will make up today - a "go home, you are getting sleepy" playlist - very soporific. And if that doesn't work, I'll put on Sonic Youth full blast, get changed into my pyjamas, and come down the stairs, brushing my teeth.

UPDATE:
Toccata was curious about what sort of songs would be on the "go home already" playlist. They would certainly be something slow and reflective, perhaps a touch melancholy, something like the following songs. Although personally, I find these songs too beautiful to ever entice me to leave.

Left and Leaving [mp3] - the Weakerthans

Down to the River to Pray [mp3] - Alison Krauss

Various Stages [mp3] - Great Lake Swimmers

(Old) Girls Gone Wild

I got a call from an old friend from University days the other night and she had a proposition. As many of us will be reaching a certain milestone age within the next two to four years, she was thinking that a group of us women who were friends in university should all go to Mexico in three years to celebrate. No kids, no husbands. Was I in?

Hell yes!

I do feel sorry for the Mexicans, though, when these old chicks hit the beach. Hide your men and lock up your nachos.

In honour of my growing excitement at the idea of some foreign debauchery before I go to the nursing home, may I present this Friday's

Horny Old Chicks on the Beach Random Playlist:

1. I Was Born on a Train - Arcade Fire cover of the Magnetic Fields

2. Hounds of Love - Kate Bush

3. Superstar Tradesman - the View

4. The Gymnast, High Above the Ground - the Decemberists (every playlist needs the Decemberists)

5. Everything Must Go - the Weakerthans (yay, my homeboys from Winnipeg!)

6. Redwings - Guillemots

7. Scar Tissue - Red Hot Chili Peppers

8. Golden Porsche - Mogwai

9. I Want You - Elvis Costello

10. Vegetable - Radiohead (aww, back when Thom had a bleached blonde mullet)

And in keeping with the theme of old farts gone wild, may I invite you over the the Record Room, where this week I have reviewed a band who back in the day were notorious for their wildness, and who also happened to be hugely influential.

And they are reuniting. Will the world still be safe?

There are piles of mp3s for you, and a video. And thank you for reading this item of shameless self-promotion.

gonna stare at the other screen tonight

Sorry guys, Dwight's got my vote tonight.

Seriously, wouldn't you kill for a Dwight bobblehead?

Holy shit, that's gotta hurt some.

I love bad tattoos, but that's just wrong on so many levels.
- coming up tomorrow, real writing with words and sentences and everything. Maybe even some half-baked ideas.

Sweetness, sweetness I was only joking when I said I'd like to smash every tooth in your head

Oh ... sweetness, sweetness, I was only joking

when I said by rights you should be

bludgeoned in your bed

Here's a picture of the card I gave Jerry today, and it pretty much sums up how I feel about Valentine's Day. I will admit that the lyrics from Bigmouth Strikes Again are a little over the top. And I have never in my life turned down a box of Bernard Callebaut chocolate.

It was fucking freezing in our house today. We keep the house pretty cool, 18C (65F) when we are home and 14C (57F) at night or when we are at work, so we are used to wearing sweaters and slippers, but today it was just retarded. Even the cutlery in the drawers was freezing. And the salt shaker. We kept cranking the heat up and nothing happened.

And then it started to warm up outside and got warmer in the house by virtue of conductive heat transfer, and also radiative heat exchange because the sun also came out. (That was me showing off everything I have retained from my master's degree in thermal physiology). So now we are not going to worry about it until it gets cold again.

There were 600 reported traffic collisions in Calgary over Monday and Tuesday. Considering the length of my commutes those days, I am very proud of myself for coming through unscathed.

And I appear to have fried my motherboard on my work computer. How come I have such a bad track record with motherboards? Do I have some kind of evil electrical force field coming off me or something? Because we went through 3 of them in less than 2 years on our home computer.

Happy Valentine's Day, you sweet thangs!

I was practically flying, I tell you

Today's commute was infinitely shorter than Thursday's: 1 hour and 5 minutes to get to work, and a mere 1 hour and 15 minutes to get home. I shaved 45 minutes off Thursday's time! Teleporting would only have been marginally faster.

But when I got to work, I found that my computer had perished over the weekend - wouldn't even start, and when I called IT they told me that there were 60 calls logged ahead of mine. And do you know what the worst part is? Not the work that isn't getting done, oh no; it's that I can't listen to any music because it's all on my computer. So in a way, I am happy for the long commutes, as I can get my ear candy fix.

Another thing that has been accomplished on the longer commutes, is that Eva and I have figured out the possible scenarios that led to the supposed Jesus and Mary Chain reunion at Coachella this year.

As you know Jim and William Reid have not spoken in years, and we believe that William now lives in a cave somewhere in Scotland after his ill-fated run for Scottish parliament. Jim is busy living in America. So we figure it was up to bassist Douglas Hart to get things rolling, with a phone call to Jim. With our best Scottish accents, we script the phone conversations that have been taking place, as Douglas attempts to talk Jim into the idea of a reunion, tries to borrow a bass guitar as his was sold for smack long ago,and organizes a gig at the Bonny Brae Nursing Home to finance the trip. On the way to work tomorrow, perhaps Douglas will come up with a plan for enticing William out of exile to rejoin the band in the California desert (or at least at the Bonny Brae). Hold the presses - I certainly hadn't heard about this!

I'm thinking that a road trip with the Jesus and Mary Chain would be rather faithful to this video for Sometimes Always. We can't for the life of us figure out how they got those cowboy hats on over their hair.



And because one JAMC video only wets the appetite, so here's another classic - Happy When It Rains. Now who thought it was a good idea to give the boys so much smack before the big video shoot?

In case you missed the memo, puppeteers are weird

I was rather surprised to find myself voluntarily attending a puppet show yesterday, as I consider puppetry to be only marginally above mime on the food chain. And I could have attended some kickass concerts for quite a bit less than I paid for these tickets, too.

But I had been hearing quite a buzz about the Old Trout Puppet Workshop's production, Eva's film studies teacher was highly recommending that his students see this, and the Grand Theatre added a Saturday matinee to the roster, thereby eliminating the need to schlepp my lazy ass downtown on a winter night, all culminating in the perfect storm of reasons to not wiggle my way out of seeing this.

And it was actually quite intriguing. This production is perfect for people with short attention spans, as it is what it claims to be - a series of puppet death scenes, some of which were morbidly funny, some of which were quite poignant, and a few of which left me scratching my head in bewilderment. The kid behind me echoed my sentiments a couple of times with his perplexed whisper to his mom, "I don't get it".

The first time I saw an arm and then a head of one of the puppeteers appear in the puppet window, I admit I squirmed, thinking that they were being shoddy with the production, but then I quickly realized, as the puppeteers made full body appearances on stage to interact with their puppets, that this was merely part of the technique. To me one of the most intriguing aspects of the production, was the sheer number of differing techniques that were used. I particularly liked the use of the large pop-up book, in which the same house was portrayed from a closer and closer perspective on each page, with the sounds of an argument growing louder and louder as the house grew nearer, until the turning of the final page, which culminated in the sound of someone being killed.

I'll admit it was just a trifle creepy to see the puppeteers lovingly caress the puppets, as though they a possessed a life outside of that which they themselves bestowed upon them, but that's a puppeteer for you (see title).

And then we discovered a fab new coffee shop in the Arts Central building, which is right in the heart of the crack-deal district of downtown. This coffee shop is on the second floor of a building dedicated to art galleries and artist spaces, and has floor to ceiling windows and comfy couch and table arrangements where people sit and sketch as they sip their steamers. And the baristas had personalities too, so it was a far cry from the soulless encounters we were used to at Starbucks and Tim Hortons.

And to top it all off, when we got home, we discovered that Jerry had fixed the internetz! I was thinking I had a bot in my laptop because it was really slow all of a sudden, but he just reset the wireless router. Damn, I should have thought of that myself.

Plus, I found out that Primal Scream will be getting the God-like Genius Award from NME this year. I sure hope they weren't basing it on their last album, Riot City Blues, because it stunk, but Primal Scream has always been either brilliant or horrible, but when they are good, they are sublime.

I've got exactly one nerve left

Holy Dinah, I am in a foul mood today. It's one of those days where everything is going for shit, but they are all really small little minor issues that somehow I am blowing way out of proportion. Things like a paper cut under my fingernail, having trouble uploading stuff to mydatabus, and a really really slow computer connection all day long. We are all working at home today and I am blaming Jerry's new work laptop for slowing my laptop down to zero. I think he's stealing all my bandwidth or something. Certainly all my mojo, anyway.
And of course when I get in a mood like this, a certain male in the house is always bound to ask, "when are you getting your period anyway?". Which only serves to further piss me off.
All I ask is to listen to a whole bunch of Jesus and Mary Chain today, because that's where the love is and they feel my pointless rage, but not even the Friday Random Shuffle playlist would accommodate my needs today.

*

Your Very Existence is Pissing Me Off Today random playlist:

Under Pressure - David Bowie and Queen

Spring-heeled Jim - Morrissey

Sing Me Spanish Techno - the New Pornographers

Wake Up - the Arcade Fire

Summertime Rolls - Jane's Addiction

Rain and Snow - the Be Good Tanyas

Same Old Thing - the Streets

Is This It - the Strokes

Freak Magnet - the Violent Femmes

Alison - Elvis Costello

*

Actually, now that I look at it, it's not such a bad playlist after all. It's just that I have a real Jesus and Mary Chain love fest going on in my head right now and I really have a craving to listen to songs that are a good soundtrack to the ill humour happening inside my head right now.

Songs like:

Upside Down [mp3] - the Jesus and Mary Chain

**

You know that band of kids that you've been hearing wailing on their instruments in that garage down the street? Well, that could very well be the guys from Tokyo Police Club. And considering my mood, it's a damn good thing that I wrote the review for Tokyo Police Club's EP, A Lesson in Crime earlier this week, because I am not too objective today.

But if you would like to find out more about this band of youngsters from Newmarket, Ontario who seem to be taking over the world with their exuberant sound, please click over to my review at the Record Room. In keeping with my shameless pimping of new Canadian music, I am offering mp3s and a link to a CBC Radio 3 session with the band.

~^~^~^~

Awww, I can't stay grumpy when you are around. You beautiful creatures always charm me out of my snits, even when I am rather enjoying them. Have a fabulous Friday night, with an extra glass or two or wine. Strictly for medicinal purposes, of course.

Just another manic Thursday

When I first started my job, I could drive to work in 20 minutes on a good day. Now it generally takes me 45 minutes, often longer in the winter, naturally.

Today, it took me 1 hour and 10 minutes to drive in to work and 1 hour and 55 minutes to drive home.

It really makes me re-evaluate my priorities. Is anything worth that time that I will never get back again, not to mention the toll that all that commuting takes on the environment? I'm starting to feel that I am being irresponsible by working 30 kms from my home. I should be working within bike riding distance from my house. But I sure as hell am not moving.

I'll tell you what, the minute my one-way commute hits the 2 hour mark, I am quitting. Fuck this shit.

.

"Fuck This Shit" mp3 - Belle and Sebastian

.

Or if you would rather spend time in a happier place, check out Beckeye's blog for the great Jesus and Mary Chain video she posted.

.

Say it with me, children: "It's seeewwww guuuud!"

I wear grey on the outside because grey is how I feel on the inside

Am I weird for loving winter days like this? Days where the entire world is washed in a dim grey light.

It was glorious today. You couldn't distinguish the sky from the earth, and the only contrast was the slightly darker grey of the frost-clad trees sillhouetted against snow-laden clouds. The occasional brush stroke of dusty green from snow-tipped conifers provided the subtlest of contrasts.
Even the cars were grey, covered as they were in two days of slush. The world seems so delicate on days like this.
I feel strangely comforted living in a calm grey world. It make me wonder if I am autistic.

But of course on a calm grey-tinted day, you do need a song with hand claps and tambourines.

And you thought you were a good procrastinator

March 31, 2006 - passports photos taken and application forms begun

February 2, 2007 - completed passport applications sent to Passport Canada

.

In my defence, I will point out that my application was actually ready to go in June of 06, but somebody in the family kept filling his out wrong and then having to get his guarantor to resign. And for some reason we couldn't get the online thingy to work so we had to do it by hand, which is really scary,especially because you have to use all BLOCK LETTERS.

Last summer, the lineups at the Passport offices weren't too bad, but now they are hours long, so we couriered ours to the government instead. Now the government has my driver's license for the next several months. I'd better drive nicely. Oh maybe I shouldn't have laid on the horn for a minute and a half when that guy cut me off today.

+++

Hey, do you remember when I slammed the dishwasher door closed on my thumb two months ago? Well, that's another thing that is taking its own sweet time.

It's been hurting like a son of a biotch the whole time, although initially my whole hand hurts and now it's just a spot near the tip of my thumb. The pain finally subsided enough for me to be able to peak under the nail a bit this morning and guess what I found? Dishwasher schrapnel! A whole bunch of it!

I thought that black spot peaking out from under my nail was a bit of necrotic skin, but I managed to flick some of it off and it turned out to be black on one side and silver on the other. Just like the piece that's missing from the corner of the dishwasher. I'm pretty sure there's still a chunk imbedded in my thumb there, but that'll give me something to poke around at with a scalpel and I'm sure looking forward to that.

This reminds me of the time a few years ago that I stepped on some broken glass. I picked the glass out of my foot, but it always kinda bothered me and it grew a hard callus, which was quite sore. Then one day, a huge chunk of glass came busting out of my foot. It was the coolest thing, and firmly cemented my admiration for human physiology and the movie Alien.

+++

And finally, I know I have always said that the Junos are lame, and they are. But I am still pretty excited that Chad VanGaalen has been nominated for alternative album of the year for Skelliconnection. Way to go, immensely talented Calgary guy!

Numbers which are divisible by 100 are over-rated anyway

It would seem that this is post number 504 on this blog. I suppose I should have had a party or something for post 500, but I wasn't paying attention. Numbers that are divisible by 3 are pretty cool, though.



And that reminds me of my list of things which are under-rated:

Ballboy - this band deserves to be better known outside of Scotland and Germany (which seem to be the only places they tour). They have some of the most imaginative song titles ever, and some killer songs. Here's "The art of kissing" mp3 and some lyrics from same:

And you taught me how to kiss / while your husband had his bit / with a younger, fitter lover / on the golf course in a bunker

And they say romance is dead

Oatmeal - this has to be one of the most satisfying and toothsome foodstuffs in existence. There's nothing like an oatmeal cookie made with large flake oats so that you can actually taste them, or a steaming bowl of oatmeal on a cold morning. It's great in muffins, and you can even use it as a thickener.

And oatmeal is not just for sweet stuff either - oh no! My mom used to make us oatmeal soup sometimes and it was guuud.

Oatmeal deserves a lot more respect.

Robert Downie Jr - in my opinion, one of the most under-rated actors around. Every film that I have seen him in lately just sparkles from his performances. Check out Kiss Kiss Bang Bang or A Scanner Darkly. I, for one, am really glad that he has cleaned up his act.

I originally had a lot more items on my list of things which are under-rated, but I have forgotten them.

Meh, a good memory is over-rated anyway.