Questions, a.k.a. WTF???

1. Why is TVO cancelling Studio 2? One of Ontario's most successful public affairs shows, it has run for 12 years. Why on earth would the government sanction the cancellation of a show provided free to all citizens, that is thoughtful, provocative, fair minded and intelligent?

Hmmmm. I think I just answered my own question.

2. Why do people like this stay in Canada? Lovely article from today's Globe and Mail about the wives of the men recently arrested for planning terrorist activity. They apparently think Canada is a "filthy country." If fundamentalist Islam is so appealing to some people, why do they never move to the countries that sanction it?

3. Why does my employer issue a new electonic usage policy that notes "no procedures are attached to this policy." Huh?

4. Why did Shuggy not pee at the vet today? How does a cat go 8 hours without peeing? How?

5. Why was Yazmar denied Mary J. Blige tickets? That's just wrong.

6. Why in my youth, did I not see the wisdom of the Smiths' lyrics "I had no job, and then I found a job, and heaven knows I'm miserable now."?

Here Comes The Rain Again

If I were running the world, I would have it rain only between 2 and 5 a.m. Anyone who was out then ought to get wet." --- William Lyon Phelps

We've officially gotten our first thunderstorm of the summer. I'm talking bonifide thunderstorm. All the elements were in place today: air lush with humidity, thunderheads, warm air, smackin' lightening with a good loud roll in the sky afterwards and rain that pounds the top of the window air conditioning unit at the same tempo as the indoor shower.

I realized today that I am truly and completely fried. But I see no point in taking vacation until my site launches are over. Otherwise I'll just be at home worrying about it so what's the point? I'm taking Shuggy to the vet tomorrow though. He's doing alright and I just didn't have it this morning. Just really needed to get up, get ready and go to work like a normal person.

I ditched pilates today too and I'm glad I did. It was one of those days where I could feel myself bordering on empty. At lunch I went out for a walk and ended up following some "antique warehouse" signs I'd seen. It ended up being nothing to write home about, although I did see a nice art deco side table. I also stumbled across a lot of beautiful wild flowers in Liberty Village. Almost makes me want to get in the car and go pilfer them, but I won't. I also stumbled across a bunch of hollyhocks, which have been eluding my garden for two years. I think I have some this year, but I need to see them bloom to see what they turn into. I'm going to go back and see if I can get a picture of those hollyhocks for you. There really were something to see.

Lunch today was truly exceptional. A chicken breast and a tub of fresh cut pineapple chunks. Thank the Good Lord it's a long weekend coming up AND a pay day. I need to get all over menu planning and grocery shopping big time.

Oh How I Hate To Get Up In The Morning

"Oh! How I Hate To Get Up In The Morning,
Oh! How I'd love to remain in bed
For the hardest blow of all is to hear the bugler call:
'You've got to get up, you've got to get up,
You've got to get up this morning!'"

Someday I'm going to murder the bugler
Someday they're going to find him dead
I'll amputate his reveille and stomp upon it heavily
And spend the rest of my life in bed! "
---- By Irving Berlin

"Never rely on the glory of the morning nor the smiles of your mother-in-law." - Japanese Proverb

This is turning into the week of marathon mornings.

Monday - slept in, way too late, had no change for the bus. Walk up to main intersection by my house to get cash. I'm hoping I can get bus tickets at the convenience store across the street. If not, I'm taking a cab. Get to bank machine. Pull out wallet. See I already have cash. Go to convenience store. Have annoying clerk tell me I'm so pretty that he usually doesn't have bus tickets but for me he does, but he has to charge me more, cause I'm so pretty. Yadda yadda yadda. I say "Bye." He says "Merry Christmas."

Fuck off.

No streetcar is presenting itself going eastbound, therefore I have to walk over to next major intersection to get my bus to work. End up being somewhat on time walking in with two other colleagues.

Tuesday - Get up way too early to go for physical with doctor who is way in the north end of town. Fortunately it's raining, which means the Marine can't go to his framing gig so he drives me up. Go for physical - and in late breaking Pudge Nudge News, it's official. I lost four pounds! - also get what Ragdoll refers to as "the ol' ftttt! fttttt!" All the ladies know what I'm talking about.

Get bus back downtown, but not the one to the subway which is faster. Eventually get to downtown core. Have time to kill so I look for the Conde Naste Traveller magazine I saw at the Guru's house. It's now off the shelves. Go to bank machine. Get cash. Go to book store to see if they have magazine. End up buying a super cheap book by the How Clean Is Your House ladies. I also get a puzzle book about fairies for my niece Rosy.

Go get cup of tea. Bump into two co-workers from old gig. They were both let go in the purge that seems to have no end. Say bye to them and go off to read book for a while. Five minutes before appointment at bank realize that I've lost my umbrella. Go back to back machine. Nada. Check in with building security. Nada. Go back to book store even though I don't even remember having it there. Bingo!

Go to bank appointment. Get lunch at deli. Get on streetcar and arrive at work.

Thank Christ I took a half day's vacation.

Wednesday - Have to take Shuggy into the vet via cab so they can get a urine sample. He's not been well and his creatinine levels are up so they need to check him out. Will then leave Shuggles at vet and then take streetcar into work.

Here's to Thursday.

Operation Pudge Nudge: At Last, Some Progress

"I was taught that the way of progress was neither swift nor easy.”
---- Marie Curie

I'm now into my second week of avoiding food I'm allergic to and I'm amazed at the changes already.

Within two weeks I've noticed a number of things going on such as:

I'm losing weight.
My hands aren't cold all the time.
I don't have indigestion every time I eat
I don't have phlegm every time I eat
I sleep better
I think better

And I find that if I deviate, woe betide me. I was at The Guru's on Sunday for a long overdue catch up gab and had some cantaloupe. I thought it was ok because I had confused it with honeydew. Anyway, by the time I got home I was incredibly tired and in a foul mood for the rest of the night. I didn't quite feel myself again until this afternoon.

Plus it's not like eating this way is hard, but it is inconvenient. Last week I had canned salmon and beans for lunch. It was completely heinous. So a bit more planning is in order. Still, despite the odd bad lunch, it's been completely worth it if the initial results are anything to go by.

Great Moments In Bargain History

Friends, Romans is proud to present another installment of its exclusive series:

GREAT MOMENTS IN BARGAIN HISTORY

We're currently in the process of getting our new mortgage set up, and as we are rolling in some extra dough to faciliate some work on the house and we're changing lenders, we need to get a formal appraisal. It shouldn't be a problem, but me being me, I want to try and get our place looking as good as our place can at present.

We've removed most of the white trash stonehenge from our driveway. And I had made it personal project to take the garden up a notch this summer, as I had made such good progress last year. The appraisal has just moved up my schedule of tasks.

Along the east side of our house, there are a couple of plots by the window wells. I had planted annuals in them last year, but they did so-so as the quality of the soil is terrible. Given we're between pay cheques at the moment, I decided to be frugal and just get some compost and top soil. I'd let that sit a week and then do some planting.

So I'm at Dominion to pick up my perscription yesterday and I see the little makeshift garden centre they have in the parking lot. I decide to check in there to see what they have in the way of compost and soil. As I approach, I see the six words that are dear to the heart of every bargain hunter:

BLOW OUT SALE. EVERYTHING MUST GO.

I lost no time Dear Reader.

When it was all over I had:

4 25 litre bags of compost
5 25 litre bags of top soil
2 full sized shrub roses
1 full sized white peony
2 miniature roses
1 lavender plant
1 fern plant
4 lilies [2 yellow, 2 bright pink]
2 flats of annuals [approximately 24 plants all told]
1 other perennial I can't remember the name of.

And the price including taxes? $78 smackeroos!

HUZAH!

What It Friend Romanship?

Hello all. Sorry I fell off the face of the earth the last few days. Work got a little crazy.

I'll be back with more details, but in the meantime I wanted to make you aware of this little ditty from Tha Hoff.

Yes, only David Hasselhoff can end a video with his face projected on a woman's ass, and some part of you deep down inside says "You know, that kind of works."

The Results Are In

I used to wake up at 4 A.M. and start sneezing, sometimes for five hours. I tried to find out what sort of allergy I had but finally came to the conclusion that it must be an allergy to consciousness.” -- James Thurber

A VERY interesting Saturday Dear Reader, very interesting indeed. In short, no bloody wonder I've made no progress whatsoever on my allergy diet. I'm still eating things that I am sensitive to. To wit, my intolerances were revealed to be the following:

Severe Intolerance

Aspartame
Avocado
Banana
Buttermilk
Camembert
Curds
Edam cheese
Emmenthal cheese
Kiwi
Leerdam cheese
Mozzarella
Orange
Parmesan
Roquefort
Tangerine
Tilsit Cheese
Whey

Moderate Intolerance

Carrots
Chicken Egg White and Yolk
Cocoa Beans - Noooooooooooooooooo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Coffee --- AACK!! ACCKK! AHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!
Cottage cheese - whatevah.
Cow mil
Cream Cheese
Goat cheese
Gouda
Grape
Honey
Onion
Potato
Raisins
Ricotta
Sheep Cheese
Strawberry
Sugar Cane - no breaks whatsoever apparently.
Tomato
Yeast
Yogurt - thank Christ I didn't get that all natural yogurt maker I had my eye on.

So the really big news here is Milk. Didn't show up at all with my allergist. Other things like coffee, kiwi, banana, eggs, carrots, onions didn't either. These are all things I eat quite a bit of.

I also learned two interesting things. The first is that I now have to combine this with my allergist's work. An allergist tests for immediate reactions only. This test shows those items I'll react to within 72 hours. So allergists test for something called IgE antibodies. This test show something called IgG antibodies. The difference, according to the package they gave me is that IgG reactions develop because of a disturbed digestive tract and lack of variety in the diet. IgE reactions are pretty much with you for life. Brutal. [Thank God chocolate isn't IgE for me!]

The second thing I learned about is how important it is to rotate your foods. Apparently, from start to finish it takes 72 hours for your body to ingest, assimilate and expel the waste of anything you eat. So if you are having the same thing every day, you're essentially bombarding yourself and setting your immune system up for dysfunction.

I have to admit that I felt quite overwhelmed and bummed out initially. "How am I going to put both this and my allergist's work together?" I thought. But at the same time, it made a lot of things make sense in terms of the challenges I've had with my energy levels, particularly the last 15 years. So I just decided to jump in and do it in pieces. I'm focusing on what I CAN eat and went to Whole Foods today to stock up and make sure I had a variety of things, and also because they're pretty much the only store that stocks all the freakadoo stuff I need in one place.

So instead of just peanut butter, I now have macadamia and hazlenut butter too. Instead of just olive oil, I've got some sesame, which the Marine and I used to make the most amazing stirfry tonight for dinner. Instead of green tea and black tea, I've also got lemon white tea and ginger root tea.

The biggest challenge will be the inconvenience factor. I won't be able to just grab anything if I'm hungry. But ultimately, this is really just a year of my life, a year of work that could pay off big time. There's a whole other process you go through to reintroduce foods to see what you still have an issue with and I figure if I can really stick with this, it will help me achieve many other things that I have wanted to do. Plus, I don't get very excited about cooking, but it looks like I'm on my own so to speak, and the idea of going through my recipe books to see what I can cook and adapt for myself is, dare I say it, somewhat exciting. Usually I'm neither here nor there about cooking.

At any rate, I'm going to try my best to stay positive and just take things as they come on a daily basis. I'm just really grateful that financially I could get this testing done and now have more information to help myself.

So on that note, onward. As the French say: Little by little, the bird builds his nest.

Can I Get Chocolate Sauce On That?

My body is a temple where junk food goes to worship --- Anonymous

Everyone was surprised at work today because after a month or so of dragging my butt, I was pretty peppy. I'd gotten a really good night's sleep, albeit I had had another weird dream that I was sitting in the living room with the Marine and I looked up to see a hole in the ceiling that went all the way to the attic.

I've decided to do some research into Jungian dream analysis to see if I can start deciphering things.

Anyway, it was just as well I got some rest as I hadn't been to Pilates last week. I went today, absolutely dreading it, finding I was stronger than ever. I realize I have a very real psychological barrier to get through when it comes to exercise. My experience has conditioned me to expect a lack of progress as normal. Now that I'm making progress, it feels strange.

Although I do think my workout today was somewhat negated by the chips I had for lunch. And the chocolate bar I had for dessert. Or was it the other way around? Then Ragdoll picked me up after work to go to a preview screening of The Devil Wears Prada and we ate Rotten Ronnie's [McDonald's] on the way up.

I have an idea. Why don't I just walk around with an I/V of lard?

Sigh.

You get a bad food day once in a while. I usually bring my lunch on pilates days but didn't this week. All I can do is do better. Plus, I'm seeing this week as the countdown. to Defcon 1. Saturday I get my bloodwork/food intolerance results. I'll probably be told I'm intolerant to water and air, so part of me wants to whoop it up while I still can.

Freakadoo

Dreamin'
Dreamin' is free.
----- Blondie

Today I felt somewhat better at work having gotten a full night's sleep with no crazy ass nightmares.

Seriously. I have some really f&*ked up episodes.

Like the other night. I always know it's a bad sign when it's winter. So of course, in my dream there's a storm and I hear this cat yeowling and I think "I better take this cat inside and worry about who it belongs to later."

She's a beautiful calico and somehow my friend Georgie wants to adopt her. Just as I'm about to take the cat to Georgie I notice she has tags on. I look at one of the tags, and the cat's name is: Rosy - my niece's name.

The dream I had Sunday night was even worse. I'm in some abandoned house. I always know it's a bad sign when I'm in an abandoned house. In the dream, I'm some kind of investigator and I'm tracking a serial killer called "The Two Spot Killer", because this dude kills his victims in a way that they'll bleed a lot. He lays them in one spot, lets them bleed, then drags them to another and leaves them so there's always two big spots of blood.

Now I'm sorry, but isn't this just a little bit weird?

I suppose this is my brain's way of venting stress. Feeling stretched always seems to correlate to blood in my dreams. Sometimes the dreams go up a notch.

In this one dream I had, I'm walking down a street and hear this little boy's voice crying "Help! Help!" I turn and see him peering out of a basement window. I go to the window and see that he can just barely reach the bars. Yes. There's full on bars in this window and I can see into the basement and there is what appears to be ground meat.

So I of course do the logical thing. I just pry the bars off and pull the boy out of the basement. BUT, I decide that's not enough. I decide it is time to represent and go looking for the kidnapping motherf&*ker who locked up this kid in the first place. So I climb on in and there's all this ground meat, and blood and severed dog heads.

Yes. Severed dog heads y'all.

Somehow I find this guy. I don't even remember what he looked like. And I beat the crap out of him and then police come.

Maybe I'm a closet cop.

Anyway, there's just a helluva lot of crap going down, crap I can't really go into right now. Plus, I'm just dreading my allergy testing results this Saturday. Hey Scarbie - You know how you were talking about how you'd rather have a congested nose than give up brie? Oy. Can I relate.

Anyway, if any of you have any crazy ass dreams, I'd appreciate hearing about them. It would be nice to know I'm not alone in the Freakadoo Realm.

Early Morning Revelations

Riptide
Caught in a riptide
Torn between two loves the old and the new
Riptide lost in a riptide
Where will it take me what shall I do?
My heart is tossed on a sea of emotion
One love offers romance the other devotion
The new love is calling the old love is pleading
I'm caught in a riptide what shall I do?

- "Riptide", Robert Palmer

This past weekend was what I like to call a "Crash and Burner". It was the first weekend in ages where I had no obligations. I had a very strung out week and to be honest, I've been finding it hard to cope with my workload post sinus infection. The past month has been really hard sloggin' for some reason.

I try not to get too despondent or self-involved with this stuff, but sometimes I can't help it. I feel great, start to get on top of things and then get sick and I'm...well...sick of it. Sometimes I just get tired of having to pull myself out of the hole and start over. Plus, it's not like I have a definable condition or disease of any kind. I just have "health issues" and feel like I run on empty all the time.

So this past weekend was probably just as well in that it let me regroup [again!] and get some perspective. I have to admit that I'm really hopeful that my allergy blood work will yield some results that will let me move forward. I don't mind not eating certain things. But you know, when you do that for a good month and really don't feel that much better, temptation gets the better of you. That's why I think there have been other sensitivities in play that I'm not aware of. [Dear Lord: In the name of all that is holy and good, please don't let me be sensitive to chocolate. For thine is the cocao, the sugar and the buttah. Amen.]

At any rate, I get my results this coming Saturday so I'll be sure to fill you in.

This past Saturday morning I woke up early. I couldn't get back to sleep so I got up to watch some t.v. I turned it to TVO [because I don't have cable and it's my best choice] and Paula Todd was interviewing Sylvia Fraser. She's one of those funny authors for me, and by that I mean that she is someone I've admired but never read. I first became aware of her when her book My Father's House came out. In this book, she chronicles the resurfacing of her memories of horrific sexual abuse by her father. Her other non-fiction books have focused on the spiritual and at the time I caught the interview, she was talking about her book The Rope in the Water: A Pilgrimage to India. She got the title from an experience she had swimming in an area reknowned for its riptides. A few times, she says, she feels a rope hit her feet. Quite annoyed, she continues swimming until she sees lifeguards waving frantically because she's getting pulled out further into the ocean.

Not being a very good swimmer, she starts to doggie paddle back to no avail. It is at this moment, she feels the rope hit her feet again. She grabs it, and realizes it leads back to shore. She said she looked as if she was gliding through the water because as she was pulling herself to safety, the rope was also pulling her in the same direction. She gets to the beach, close enough for her toes to just graze the bottom and starts walking out the water. She looks for the rope. It isn't there. At all.

Call me crazy, but part of me feels like I was meant to see this interview. I was able to get through the rest of the weekend feeling somewhat hopeful about the future in my own tired ass, stressed out mode. I'm trying to get out of my own way. Maybe what I thought I wanted isn't what I want or need to do at all. Maybe it is what I really want and I have to keep trying. I don't know. I'm just really trying to listen to what my heart is telling me. I can't say I have any answers yet, but the idea that the rope will get thrown to me when I need it gives me hope.

A Miss A. Joint

Miss A. has done it again!

Three words y'all. HI. LAR. IOUS.

You can check out her recollection of planning her first ghetto wedding by clicking here.

Work those smiley's girl!

Operation Cookie Snatch

And so it was Dear Reader, that one week ago this evening my dear little Cookie took off and got lost. It was most certainly not a great start to the week because I find myself strung out at the best of times with work being what it is these days.

Earlier in the day, Cookie had been at the back door while I was in the garden. He seemed keen to go outside and when I opened the door out he came. I saw this as great progress as he hadn't been outside in two years, and at that time he was a very frightened and starving stray.

We had a nice time in the garden - he was out for all of two minutes or so - and back in we went. I thought no more of it.

Later that evening I was blogging away when the Marine yelled up that Cookie had busted loose and could I help him. The Marine had made the fatal mistake of trying to grab him by the scruff of the neck when he was hiding under our car. Needless to say, that was that. Cookie was having nothing to with us.

It was as if we were strangers. The closer we got the further away he went. So I decided to call off the rescue mission because I didn't want to drive Cookie further from our house. I went out several more times that night, looking for him to no avail. I got to bed around 1 a.m., my knees raw from having crouched down to look under so many cars.

The next morning I was out at 7 a.m. looking again. We had left pillow cases outside our front and back doors in the hopes that the scent would lure Cookie back. Of course he wasn't there. I ended up walking towards the train tracks by our house so I could see in the backyards of the houses opposite us. All the while horrible visions of Cookie's body mangled by a GO Train danced in my head.

Off to work I went. As we're a single car family at the moment, my pal Bronte - God love 'er - drove me back home at lunch so I could look again. Of course I was totally embarrassed by the white trash Stonehenge that is my driveway at the moment, but Bronte of course just went with the flow. We were walking around, I was calling Cookie, Bronte noted how nice everyone's gardens were, nada.

During that afternoon I ended up on some websites. Yeah, I know I shouldn't be doing personal surfing on work time, but this was an EMERGENCY SITCHOOWAYSHUN y'all. It ended up that I had been doing many things right, as I had been restricting my search to a limited area. Many sites recommended doing this, particularly for indoor cats.

So that evening after a hastily eaten supper, I was back out again. This time I went back to the rail tracks for a second look. As I headed a bit further in than I had last time, I heard a cough. Then I remembered the Marine mentioning that there are people who live by the tracks. So I decided that my curiousity was satisfied and that I didn't really need to confirm if I had actually heard a cough or not.

I headed back to the my street and then walked around the block. Coming round the other side of the crescent I live on, I came across a nice Portuguese lady, one of the old timers in the neighbourhood. She asked me if I'd lost a pet and I told her about Cookie. "Oi my Gud. Dat is terrible." she says and then goes into the story of how she had to put her cat down because he ended up with major kidney problems. "His stooooool. Unbelievable."

Yes. I would imagine.

Anyway, she said she'd keep a look out and I headed back home deflated.

By the time it was dark, I contemplated going to bed. But I just couldn't give up. A voice inside said "keep looking." So I grabbed the Marine's head lamp that he uses for electrical and headed out again. We'd agreed it was probably best if Cookie just heard me and my voice as the Marine had completely freaked him out in the first place. Plus I know the Marine felt really really bad. He said to me "Well, he's just here for the food anyways." and OF COURSE I know the Marine doesn't actually mean this. He's just trying to distance himself from the negativity of the whole predicament. I of course said that wasn't true and that Cookie loved us. The Marine felt that Cookie only really loved me anyway.

Men. Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.

So back out I went. It's at times like this you realize the value in not giving your pet a smart ass name. I contemplated what it would be like walking around my Portuguese Catholic neighbourhood yelling "Satan! Where are you Satan!" Or giving the yuppies a laugh yelling "Steeeeeeeellllllllaaaaaaaaaaa!!"

But I suppose my calling paid off, for when I shone the light under a porch that Bronte and I had looked under at lunch, there was Cookie. I think he had been hiding in a corner and that's why I couldn't see him before. Now he was out in the middle.

I went round to the other end of the porch and discovered to my delight that it had doors that opened. This of course meant that when I did so, Cookie went to the other end of the porch. This happened several times. I'd be at one end, Cookie at another until it occurred to me he was probably hungry and I went inside to get a bowl of food.

I crawled once again under the spider infested porch, worms and soft mud squishing under my knees. It was very Indiana Jones. Cookie saw the food bowl and didn't dart away. Instead he started to eat and let me pet him a little. He then took of to the other end. I followed. We did this several times again until Cookie got fed up and went right out the other side and onto a driveway. He then hid in some bushes, but let me sit next to him with the food bowl.

The truly hilarious thing was that during all this searching for Cookie, Tye and Shauna the feline wards of what we like to call our "Banjo Neighbours" just down the street, were following me around the whole time. There was even another cat that joined me at one point, plus another one that looked exactly like Cookie but skinnier. Damn, I thought to myself. I can find every bloody black cat in this neighbourhood except my own.

So needless to say, Shauna was right there beside me when I was giving the food to Cookie. I gave Shauna a little handful and Cookie took this opportunity to leave his spot and go on the lawn. He wasn't too frantic so I knew that the time to strike was close at hand. I put the food down and Cookie began to eat and then turned his back to me.

WHOOPAH! I snatched him up into my arms and held on for dear life, hoping I wouldn't require a blood transfusion from all the scratches that surely awaited me. Instead, Cookie just seemed stunned and then began to wiggle and whimper. I had preset my front door so I was able to just push it open with my feet. In we went and I plopped him on the floor.

His expression was quite comical. It went from "Jesus H. Christ!" to "Oh. This is my house." He then wandered off to the litter box. I would think that after nearly 24 hours missing, he needed the facilities.

I went back outside, cleaned up the mess I'd made pulling my neighbour's recycling out from the porch, and then brought the water bowls and pillow cases inside.

The Marine came downstairs and I could tell he was proud of me. "This is a perfect example" I said "of why you just can't give up sometimes."

"Yes." said the Marine as he sat on the couch, at which time Cookie came up to him and began to lick his hand.

"See?" I said. "He does too love you."

DaVinci Hilarity

Well, I've had three days in a row of not getting to sleep until 1 a.m. or later. I of course had two full days of looking for Cookie. Then last night I was "all of a doo-dah" as my Dad would say about work stuff.

So, my retelling of Cookie's daring rescue is enroute. In the meantime, here's a pic that made me laugh today.

Gotta love Mad Magazine.

Zest to tha "TEE" Represent! Represent!

Cookie is home!

Of course in a subsequent entry, I will spare you no detail of how with negligible regard for my own personal safety, I executed a daring rescue of Cookie from under a spider ridden worm infested porch.

Details to follow Dear Reader.

The Cookie Crumbles

Well still no sign of Cookie. I'm really trying hard not to freak out. My other cat Mojo went on a bender for three days once and came back no worse for wear so we shall see. So far, we've done everything we can. If he's not back tomorrow morning, then I'll spend tomorrow night putting up signs.

Anyway, I now have the Bubba Bird safely esconced at home, and it looks rather nice I must say. Friday was much nicer than Saturday. I battled rain and bad drivers to drive up Finch and Keele for blood work. It relates to my allergies and tests for delayed reactions to foods.

I hate the north end of the city. It's so completely without soul. I ended up walking out with my left arm going BAH-BOOM, BAH-BOOM, which made no sense as the naturopath who took the blood was very good. It wasn't painful at all. Now I have a HUGE bruise.

After that, it was a trip to my folks for some dinner and convo.

Yesterday I had brunch with girlfriends, which was an absolute tonic. Today, I am back at work and I can't take it. It's like every ounce of concentration has left my brain. Very weird. I'm literally struggling to get things done and I don't know why. It's not like it's rocket science.

Well sorry to babble. I suppose I'm just distracted with Cookie being missing. I really hope he comes back.

Bubba Bird in Bancroft

Towards the end of last week, I started to feel human again. I was getting a sinus infection, dealing with a sinus infection or recovering from one. But it was one of those weeks where I felt like I was just going into work to keep a seat warm. I felt pretty useless truth be told. So I decided to take Friday off, just to see if I could catch my breath.

Friday arrived and after a good sleep in, I asked the Marine if he felt like a drive. He was off work that day and was all for it.

There's something particular decadent about a road trip on a weekday. You geniunely feel like you're sciving off work - which is precisely the point I suppose. We elected to check out Silent Lake, which is a Provincial park north of Peterborough that we're interested in camping at later this year.

Needless to say, driving in the Berrymobile is sheer bliss, particularly as a passenger. The seats are so comfortable and the ride is very smooth. Still, if I may digress for a moment Dear Reader, I find myself wishing for Little Thunder, my Nissan Sentra. She's been sitting in the driveway since November. Our plan was to save money and get her repaired. But I looked at her last weekend and thought, wow. She just looks tired out. And honestly, do you really need to replace a transmission twice? So plan now is just to sell what parts we can and have the Marine find something to tide him over until he gets a truck.

Still, I'll miss those road trips with her. Sure, Berry has a lot more power and A/C which is very nice when needed. But I don't know if I'll be as attached to Berry. Maybe I just haven't had enough chance to drive it yet.
But there was just a boxiness to Thunder that I liked. Berry is really an SUV, and I wonder if I did the right thing in getting it. It feels big and isn't any better on gas than Thunder was. Of course, I know I need just one bad winter with Berry's all wheel drive and I'll wonder what the hell I was babbling about here.

As I'm sure you are too.

Ahem.

So, back to Silent Lake. We arrived mid-afternoon and had a quick drive around. We checked out the lake itself, but briefly as the mosquitoes were eating us alive. I have a hiliarious pic on my camera of the Marine dashing for safety. It was brutal.

I then took a notion to go north to Bancroft, so off we went. It's a remarkably beautiful drive. There's a lot of Canadian Shield, which explains why the early settlers found farming such hard graft. Bancroft itself is surrounded by high ridges of stone. It feels like you're in a valley, even though you're not.

We stopped at a store because I had seen the magic word: FUDGE. It ended up being one of those granny stores with all sorts of country schtick. But I had my first instance of complete impulse shopping in about 4 years. I saw the Bubba Bird.

At least that's what I call it. It's a pale yellow chickadee, but it has a very round body. I just fell in love with this thing. Don't ask me why. I decided to get it, along with a hedgehog made out of twigs for Rosy. I also got a pound of fudge, which was way too much. The amount I had in my head was really half a pound but I didn't realize until I opened up the box.

I also made the fatal mistake of getting vanilla fudge. I thought it would be like British tablet. NOT.

----- Well isn't that great. I was in the middle of typing this, and Cookie ran outside on the Marine. Now he's taken off. He won't come near us AT ALL. I let him out for a bit in the garden tonight because he seemed interested, and given that he hasn't been out for nearly two years, I figured he'd enjoy it. He came back in with me no problem. I really hope he doesn't get disoriented. I just wasn't counting on it because usually cats that have been strays don't, well, stray again. I hope he comes back ok. It's night now and he's a black cat, so needless to say it was a little difficult trying to locate him and he just kept taking off. Hopefully he'll be back in a while.

My Ultimate Reality Show

As I don't have cable, I have recently developed an obsession with So You Think You Can Dance. The dancing on this show, when it's good, is SO GOOD. And when it's bad, weeeeeelllllllll. I have to admit, this show makes American Idol look like the Care Bears. The judges pull absolutely no punches whatsoever. Sure. Part of you inwardly rolls your eyes when dancers talk about the piece they're going to perform as "an expression of triumph over adversity" and "going after your dreams" or that "this dance really helped me get through my break up with my boyfriend."

And then they dance it in this overwrought manner and you're thinking "oooooooooooohhhhhhhhhh." But still, when the judge says it was the worst thing they've ever seen and you can see these people trying not to cry, it's a bit much. It's all fine and good not being good enough, but who the hell ever wants to hear that?

I don't think reality shows appeal to people because they enjoy making fun of others. I think it's because life takes down everyone a notch, but you experience it in isolation. These shows are just a televised proof that it does in fact happen to everyone else, so ultimately you don't feel alone.

And that you can triumph over adversity and go after your dreams.

Ahem.

But nothing I think can compete with what the good folks at Meow Mix have planned. Check this out, from Mediapost:

Meow Mix is sponsoring a reality show competition just for cats. Kitty competitors will be asked to lick themselves clean, chase balls of string, and relieve themselves in a litter box as they scratch and claw their way towards the grand prize.

Ten cats from shelters across the U.S. will be selected to compete in the inaugural edition of The Meow Mix House. The cats will travel to New York City and live together in a specially-designed house from June 13-23. Webcams will be mounted in every room in the house to get a glimpse into what cats do all day--and in our household, that's sleep. Well, most of the time, anyway.

Visitors can also go to http://www.MeowMixHouse.com to vote for their favorite cat, (starting Thursday.) The cat with the fewest votes will be evicted from the house. However, all the cats in the Meow Mix House are winners: each cat that gets the boot will be adopted into a permanent home and receive a one-year supply of Meow Mix as a consolation prize. Meow Mix will pre-select a family in each city to adopt the cats after their stay in the house ends.

The last cat standing in the house will receive a job working for The Meow Mix Co. as Feline Vice President of Research and Development. He or she will be responsible for taste-testing and feedback on new Meow Mix product launches and line extensions. The Meow Mix Co. is producing the show along with Grand Central Marketing, an event marketing and promotion agency, and MMB, Meow Mix's advertising agency. Since it takes a special kind of person to understand what cats are saying, pop-up dialogue bubbles will be used to help translate the meows into English. Negotiations are underway with several cable networks to air the show.

Hmmm. I think I may have to get cable after all.

Some Wisdom

Came across this the other day and thought I would share:

They deem me mad because I will not sell my days for gold; and I deem them mad because they think my days have a price." -- Kahlil Gibran