In Honour of My Man

Even though he had his phone ring the melody from "Sweet Child O Mine" when I called for almost a year (which is actually a really adorable sentiment if you think about it and you went to a bit of a skid highschool like I did), even though he assumes that I will remember where everything is put away in the house (which actually isn't such a silly assumption since I do remember) and even though he thinks he's more clever than I am (shhh, there's no point in shattering that illusion) I love him more than I thought I could love someone.

All teasing aside, I've never met an individual like my darling Matej. We were introduced a little over 5 years ago, working side by side at the Kingston HMV. Because of mitigating circumstances at the time we were never really able to pick a moment when we were decidedly a couple. It was more like an evolution (granted a heart-wrenching one) into couplehood. Because of this, we have no anniversary date. It's not a big deal as there are birthdays, Christmas and random acts of kindness a-plenty each year. And it's not as though we need a date to remind us to be good to eachother; that's a daily endeavour.

It does make tallying the years, months and days that we've shared company a bit of a challenge. We're both detail oriented, precise people. I, in particular, enjoy cataloguing details, whereas M likes to ensure that they are absolutely correct. Between the two of us, not much slips by. Except for the date we got together. Ooops. I don't know how M chooses to count the time. I imagine he just relies on the fact that I have developed some kind of system and just asks me, should he ever forget, how long we've been together. So I measure the time from the moment that I knew I was in love with him. It may well be that I was in love with him before I realized it, but fact that I had a lightening bolt moment which has been emblazoned in my brain like Harry Potter's scar, makes it an irresistible marker.

Five years ago today at about 4:30 p.m. EST, M and I were seated on the Spadina street car making our way to his mother's place after a day of shopping on Queen Street. It was overcast and cold. M was holding my hand. Not a huge event, but important at that time for a variety of reasons. I will spare you the gushy details of my thoughts and all the romance novel cliches. The abridged version is that in that moment I knew and despite many dramas, trials and moments of insecurity, I've known every day since.

On Friday M turns 27, so this will be my week of celebrating my man. I know that he's earned it. To the one that helped me understand that "To say 'I love you' one must know first how to say the 'I.'"

Today's sing-a-long song: "Thank you" by Led Zeppelin
HRH

Christmas swag continues

It's out of hand people. Totally out of hand.

Recent additions to the holiday haul: Donna Karan Cashmere mist perfume, Holt Renfrew gift certificates, this card holder and pen, Phyto hairspray, blue soaps for the shower, a new brush from M.A.C., Yonka Cream 93, a new notebook covered with black velvet, Chai mix, books on How to be a Diva and how to spoil yourself (see sidebar for links) and a Pottery Barn Chandelier photo frame.

Remind me to be good again this year.

HRH

Which is worse

The fact that someone actually took the time to turn G.W. Bush quotes into poetry, or that the man is actually on record having said these things. He has a speech writing staff, right? You can call President Bush many things, but you cannot call him a good public speaker...

Thanks to Blood for sharing it with the world

MAKE THE PIE HIGHER
by George W. Bush

I think we all agree, the past is over.
This is still a dangerous world.
It's a world of madmen and uncertainty
and potential mental losses.

Rarely is the question asked
Is our children learning?
Will the highways of the Internet become more few?
How many hands have I shaked?

They misunderestimate me.
I am a pitbull on the pantleg of opportunity.
I know that the human being and the fish can coexist.
Families is where our nation finds hope, where our wings take dream.

Put food on your family!
Knock down the tollbooth!
Vulcanize society!
Make the pie higher! Make the pie higher!

I'm giggling so hard I couldn't possibily sing. Unless I was singing about the lizard and his bong. (Really, don't even try to understand).

HRH

What? No socks?

There are certain holiday traditions that I've come to depend on over the years. Stress over turkey dinner, getting sick on Christmas Day and getting socks in my stocking. It was one of those things that gave me a secret kind of joy; getting footwear inside footwear. Add it to my fascination with cattle humour and you have my quirky sense of the ridiculous. Anyway, this Christmas, the only footwear I got in my stocking was, well, a pair of stockings. Which actually cover my entire lower body, so I don't think they really count as socks. Has the world gone mad? Or have I just spent too many years going "oh, socks" in a sarcastic tone, only to have it smack me in the ass now when I have to face a winter of buying my own socks?

Bitch, bitch, bitch. Hey, I'm good at it.

Christmas has been very nice. The present present tally is:

24" Sony Wega Television, Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon DVD, Star Wars Episode I DVD, Akira Kurasowa Criterion 4 DVD Set (Which includes The Hidden Fortress, Yojimbo, The Seven Samurai & Sanjuro. Weee!), No Doubt boxed set, home decor for all seasons book, 2 big canvases for painting, new painters easel, a Starbucks gift card I've already finished, this bracelet in black, a make-your-own-sushi set, the Canadian Oxford Dictionary, various kitchen implements including a very elaborate pasta cooker, Lyra's Oxford (Related to Phillip Pullman's Dark Materials Trilogy) and a belly dancing book. Oh and some black stockings too.

Consider me spoiled people. Totally spoiled.

Christmas was a bit of a dark day because I had no access to my Chai lattes. I was suffering from so much withdrawal that I had to go to Starbucks for them twice today and bring home a box of the concentrate to my parents house just in case I can't make it to the one Starbucks in Kingston tomorrow. Clearly I am on the fringes of civilization here people. I hope everyone is having a great holiday and has easy access to their much needed vices.

Today's sing-a-long song: "Time is running out" by Muse (if only for the line "I tried to give you up, but I'm addicted.")

HRH

Holiday Toxicity

My first mistake was deciding to listen to The Christmas Carol radio station. Hearing non-stop carols for 3 hours does something to a person. I didn't notice it when I was working at HMV and hearing nothing but Christmas carols for weeks at a time. Maybe I've lost my immunity to it all. Reason would suggest that I get up and walk over to the radio and turn it off, but I'm hypontized by it. I've heard at least one Mariah Carey Christmas Carol every hour and I think that Feliz Navidad is actually giving me hives...

Work is very slow today. Message boards are empty, save a few lost souls debating the Spiderman 2 teaser, the Ghost loose in the UK and whether or not Return Of The King was actually good. I've already sent out my latest press release, and I'm left to count the hours to my 5 day holiday. I'm taking this time to reflect on the contradictions in my life. Like how last night I was thrilled to discover that there is actually a "Pottery Barn Kids," but almost equally filled with glee at the prospect of purchasing a wristlet made of leather and stainless steel for boyfriend. These desires so don't mesh, but I suppose are indicative of this "growing up" thing people talk about.

As the holiday season descends upon all of us, I would like to pass on my heart-felt best wishes and good tidings to blog readers near and far. Light snow is expected for Thursday. Christmas starts in the Czech Republic in a mere 6 hours and doesn't end for me until the evening of the 28th. Somehow, my darlings, we will all find a way through and hopefully still be able to fit into our pants come January.

Today's sing-a-long song: "What's This?" from The Nightmare Before Christmas

HRH

If I don't do this I will regret it forever

It seemed rushed to me. I don't know how, but a 3 & 1/2 hour movie felt rushed. I'm still formulating thoughts about it. I'm irritated that I didn't cry (thank the rush and the asshat with the cell phone), and I know that the Extended Edition will be a superior film, far superior. THe most important thing is that M rocks. That after a long day at work, he got tickets for the movie on the way home, so we could finally see a Lord Of The Rings film together for the first time. And he held my hand all those times when I was about to cry.

HRH

Trimming Time

It's Saturday afternoon and I'm at home not watching Return of The King because I'm an amazing girlfriend and I'm actually waiting for M to have the time to see it with me as he lamented in the past "We've haven't seen any of them for the first time together." When he plays the whole "The Music Sounds Better with You" card I am helpless.

So I'm home, after a dramatic hair cut eating what seems to be a bottomless bowl of soup, pausing every 20 seconds to brush my new bangs of my face. As after any hair cut, my head feels lighter and happier. I'm digging the cut today, but I know I'm going to adore it in about 3 weeks, which in my opinion is the mark of good work. Donna, my new stylist and buddy, not only new exactly what I needed after looking at me for a moment, but also understood that I needed something that would look great as it grew. And Presto.

Now I'm going to do other things that aren't watching Return of The King.

Today's sing-a-long song: "Waitin' On A Sign" by The Tea Party.

HRH

Updated

With hair photo for Kari. It was much edgier yesterday, but the layers are serious and, as you can see, I've already started bushing my bangs aside. The man digs it, which is good. I'm still unsure if I'm enough for this hair. Oh an the mirrior in my barhroom is kind of strange and I way trying to be kind of arty, which is hard to do when you're trying to pose and shoot at the same time. A success? No, but you can see the hair...



HRH

Little Victories

My fight against the inevitable yuppification that comes with age is turning into a losing battle. As I was coming out the front door of my house today, I looked on with glee as the recycling man threw my meticulously organized bins of glass, plastic, cans and paper into the truck. I had been concerned that my efforts would be foiled by the mysterious code that is Toronto Solid Waste Management. Week after week, boxes of recycling weren't taken away, but left cold and rejected on my front lawn. I was confused. Surely if they wanted you to reduce waste, they'd actually take away the items you're trying to recycle. And then I cracked the code. The days of single box recycling are over. You have to use at least 2 boxes and sort, sort, sort.

Last night I used a two bin and massive cardboard box strategy. M and I received our big Xmas present from my parents last weekend, and as a result had a very, very large box on our hands. I was worried that Mr. Recycling man would take the big WEGA box, but as I left the house I saw him look inside, see all the paper and cardboard lovingly organized for him, and throw it into the paper recycling truck. I was very pleased.

My morning joy deepened as I brought my two recycling bins to the side of the house and discovered that the property manager had acquired a new massive recycling bin for M and I, leaving me with a total of 3 bins. Weee.

IT IS SO WRONG THAT THIS MAKES ME HAPPY! SO, SO WRONG!

I was cool once. I really was. There were times when I would force myself to stay awake so that I could see a midnight screening of a much anticipated film. Last night, I went to bed at 11 p.m. The SHAME!

Today's sing-a-long song: "Loser" by Beck.

HRH

Back to Basics

Sometimes you realize how important the weekend really is. Like this past one, I learned that when I don't rush and I actually relax, I find myself rested and aware on Monday morning. Who knew?

Mum and Dad came to visit on Saturday, bringing my big Christmas present, so that I don't have to carry it on the train. Which was kind of them since it's really hard carrying a 24 inch TV on a train. We went for a walk in High Park, and the 'rents were assured that I live in good proximity to trees, birds and most importantly, the lake. I'm a very sad girl if I can't see Lake Ontario. After a fubu lunch in a chalet type restaurant smack dab in the middle of the park, we paid a visit to my sister and Andrew and I had one of those "My family is so awesome" moments. I don't even know why, but it was just that we were all chatting and everyone was relaxed and smiling. It was very cool.

The rest of the weekend was largely spent unconscious. I did manage to sneak in a viewing of The Two Towers extended edition with cast commentary. Only 3 commentary tracks left to go. M and I were also given free tickets to the Finger Eleven/Evanesence show last night. I was afraid we were going to be the oldest and lamest people there, but to my surprise there was a huge mix of people there (even aside from the parents chaperoning their kids. I like to think that when I'm a parent I'll be cool enough to take my kids to shows and not embarrass them). Finger Eleven was great, much like I'd expected them to be. It dawned on me that the last time I'd caught them live was the eventful "Edgefest" show where I was knocked out in the mosh pit. Good times, good times. They were known as "The Rainbow Butt Monkeys" then. Evanesence wasn't bad at all. Well thought out Goth-pop, well performed and very much loved by the crowd. Most importantly, free.

The biggest news of this weekend is that my parents brought my Double Bass up from Kingston. There aren't words for how happy I am to have it back. I can still play it, after 3 years. It feels like I never left it. Granted it needs a lot of work done on it, but it still sings like it used to and I still get that high from playing it.

Today's sing-a-long song: (you can't really sing today's song) "L'elephant" by Saint-Saens.

HRH

Much Needed Giggles

A list of stupid (but actual) band names

I was feeling low about the state of my nation. Then this site came along and improved my situation.

Okay. No more rhyming.

Enjoy it and please add any of your own.

HRH

Like a Candle in the Wind

First Joe Clark jumped ship and now Scott Brison has switched sides. And I am civic minded individual without a party. Prudence would suggest that I wait until the New Conservative Party comes out with its own constitution and find out exactly where they stand on key issues, but I'm very worried about how those decisions are going to play out. To take a line from the saga "I have a bad feeling about this."

I'm not a social conservative. This could mean a variety of things to you as I encountered this term being used in completely opposite ways today. The way I've come to understand the term, social conservatives are those who are conservative about social issues. Not the other meaning where social conservatives are more socialist leaning on social issues. Confused yet? I'll break it down for you. I'm a fiscal conservative. Government should be efficient and small and generally stay the hell out of people's lives. The way I define it, social conservatives like to make all kinds of laws about what people can and cannot do. I'm not one of those.

Which is a big part of why I'm so adrift right now. One of the things I liked about the PC party was that they were liberal (not in the Liberal party sense) about social issues. The Alliance, not so much. Which was why I was really happy to see all those social conservatives go when that party was created. And now they're back. Yee-fucking-haw.

I understand that some ideological values had to be undermined to create a party that could actually pose a threat to the Liberal government. But I wonder what the trade off will be. How many PCs will turn to the Liberals instead of the New Conservative party? I'm thinking a lot since Paul Martin is a rather blue Grit. But will I be one of them? Martin hopes to "make the Liberal party attractive to other disillusioned Tories." I just can't see that happening. Yet the prospect of spending the rest of my voting days spoiling votes almost breaks my heart.

HRH

Start the clock

According to Sally "The clock doesn't really start ticking until you you hit 35" however I beg to differ. About a month ago, at the green age of 27 I heard the first tick of the clock. It was like a thunderous boom in my head that would have knocked me over had I not been looking the cutest baby ever!. Chuckle all you like everyone. I have again changed my mind on an issue that I was "so sure of." At least I change my mind consistently.

I was standing in line at Starbucks and there she was. This adorable dark haried baby with doe eyes, looking over her father's shoulder at me in line. She was dressed in this adorable white jumper and was just holding onto her father in peace. Not screaming, pulling hair or being abnoxious. Just being too beautiful for words. I cannot begin to express how totally strange I felt.

I know I've said that babies are just short tactless people that can't go to the bathroom by themselves. I know I've said that children are evil, life-sucking parasites that will only ruin my life. I'm eating a little crow here and stating that maybe that's not such a bad thing. Lots and lots and lots of children are awful and they bother me, but there's this new notion in my mind that maybe mine won't. I find myself thinking of baby names, and if I think about singing to my future children I almost find myself in tears. And there's this really strange ticking in my head...

I'm not saying this baby thing is something I want to do tomorrow, maybe not ever. I told M about my change of heart and he took it well by smiling at me and not saying "I told you that you would soften on this issue someday" and after I asked if it was okay that I wasn't violently opposed to maybe procreating someday he told me "It's okay." So maybe someday. Maybe.

I simply cannot get over how strange this is.

Today's sing-a-long song: "The Theme from The Twillight Zone" by The Fifith Dimension

HRH

Thank You For The Music

I was given the opportunity to take in some theatre this weekend. M's Papa scored me a ticket to a performance of Mamma Mia, the ABBA-tastic frolic for young and old alike. I went through this ABBA phase when I was about 17. My parents had listened to it when I was a weeun. At 17 I bought a copy of Gold and enjoyed a year of the unusual juxtaposition of happy Swedish love music with my usual teen tune diet of anything off The Crow Soundtrack. Such a sad little girl I was.

The play was bright and colourful. Not totally my cup of tea, but I am glad I saw it. I did have a good time. It was actually a thought provoking performance. As the middle-aged woman beside me clearly had the best time she's had all year I started pondering what my generation's nostalgia will be. When I'm older and have eventually given in and become what I fear and loathe, what musical revival will make my heart go flippity flop and inject some joy and life into my bland existence?

K, I'm not dealing well with the notion of aging this week.

So I was wondering. Will it be "U2: The Musical" a story about young Irish revoutionaries and the loves of their lives (with all profits going to the Drop the Debt program of course)? Or maybe "Grunge" where the cast shoots up some heroin and we watch them roll around the stage, playing "music" in a drooling haze? I guess I just wonder what it will be that defines my generation. What will my children find "so lame" when I load my oldies onto an itunes playlist? Aside from my foray into ABBA and a peculiar affinity for hip hop, my musical youth was pretty dark, bleak and/or depressing. Do I want that commercialized and packaged up for my shattered 50-year-old self?

I hope not. But at the same time I hope my children never think it's a good idea to take me older self to "Justin & Britney: A story of infatuation, infamy and inflated egos."

Today's sing-a-long: "Voulez-Vous" by ABBA

HRH

Open Wedding Season

This past weekend, M's step-brother Dan married Laura.



M and I took on some wedding duties like taking photos...



and doing bridal make-up.



It was a long day, but a good time in the end.
I got to eat an amazing dinner.



Which always makes me happy.

Best of luck you guys!

HRH

A Little Humour From The TTC

Something must have happened at city hall on Wednesday. Mayor Miller must have told all Toronto Transit Commission employees that if they make passengers laugh while they travel they get a big honking bonus. It's the only explanation I can think of to explain why the normally nice TTC drivers have broken out the funny. Streetcar drivers have been cracking jokes about Christmas shopping between stops, subways drivers have been cracking up riders with amusing and informative quips about the ills of rushing the doors. I've even had the pleasure of watching street car drivers play little pranks on each other.

Whatever the reason, it's having a effect on my transit experience. Riders who are normally trying their best to vie for space and score the latest vacant seat have their demeanor softened by a collective chuckle. I know it's cheese, but there really isn't anything like the power of laugher on a crowd. It totally disarms and leaves people with a little something to smile about.

Maybe the TTC should start hiring comedians to drive.

...

On another note, I'm feeling less fatalistic today. I wrapped most of my Christmas presents last night while watching as many of the musical numbers from The Sound Of Music as I could before M came into the living room. I got as far as Do Re Mi, which is fine because the all important 16 going on 17 was heard and gleefully sung along to. Sadly I didn't get to listen to the final singing of Edelweiss, where the Von Trapps and the Austrian people unite in song against the Anchulss before escaping into the Austrian Alps (please pardon my all out attack on German spelling). Really we need more of that in films.

Today's sing-a-long song: "I Have Confidence In Me" from The Sound Of Music.

HRH

Trust Test

Have you ever felt like you're watching your own life from the outside? Like it was a movie and instead of being a person with your own will and motivation, you're actually just a person sitting in the audience. As you might have guessed I'm having an existential crisis today.

I feel like I've been moving really quickly for a long time and I've suddenly had a chance to stand still. I'm having that moment where breaking from the inertia is like a kick in the stomach. I'm not unhappy or anything like that. I just feel like I've been dropped into my life after a period of amnesia. Maybe all the stress of the big move, new home and new job has finally caught up with me. Things have worked out fantastically well, which may be why I feel so strange. Nothing is wrong right now. You have no idea how scary that is.

I think I'm waiting for the floor to fall out from beneath me.

Today's sing-a-long song: "Karma Police" by Radiohead

HRH

Have yourself a fucking Merry Christmas

Last night M and I decided to put up the Christmas Tree and I am happy to report that not only are we both still alive, but we're also still dating. There comes a point when you've been together long enough that you just know that you're going to fight about some things. Even when both parties are trying their hardest not to fight about things, somehow it's almost better when you just let loose.

In all honesty we ended up doing pretty well. I tried (with minor success) to not be offended by every suggestion made in reference to my artistic pursuits and I tried (with real success) to be open to new and alternative tree decorating ideas. M tried to curtail his critical eye (with some success) and pepper his suggestions with compliments (with much success). The tree is up, and is lovely and we both survived to love another day without anyone having to shout, cry or attack inanimate objects. Really, if we'd done it without the underlying tension I would have worried about where the fire had gone.



While it went well, it also took a long fricken time. Yesterday was a long day, starting with a meeting at 8 a.m., so staying up unilt 1:30 a.m. may not have been the best decision. Case in point, this morning I discovered when I got to work that instead of putting brown eye liner on my lids, I had actually put on a lovely shade of pink lip liner. Oy.

Today's sing-a-long song: "(Everybody's Waitin' for) The Man with the Bag" by Kay Starr

HRH

End of 2003 Product Extravaganza

As the year is drawing to a close, I felt it was time to do another product update. Aside from the wonderful news that Sephora now delivers to Canada, the other bit of great news is that Benefit is easily accessible to me in Toronto. This is, without a doubt, my favourite product line this year. I still use and enjoy my standards M.A.C, Chanel, and Cargo, but I just can’t stop picking up and loving everything that Benefit puts out.

Benefit: Bathina’s “Touch me then try to leave”. . . Cream
If a body cream leaves my skin feeling silky soft and keeps it that way for 18 hours, I’m happy. If it does all that and smells like sexy goodness, I’m ecstatic. I think I’m giving it to at least 3 people for Christmas this year, and yes, it’s on my list too.

Benefit: Pineapple facial polish
While I’ve always been pretty good about washing my face, exfoliating has always been something I forget to do. Since you’re only supposed to exfoliate 2 to 3 times a week, I’ve discovered that by keeping it in the shower, I remember to do it, just often enough. The pineapple polish is fantastic because it smells like a Caribbean holiday, isn’t grainy (the exfoliating beads are actually plastic) and takes nasty dead cells out back and gives them an ol’ school whuppin’.

Bumble & Bumble Brilliantine Hair Shine
(flash site)
You know how a bouquet of flowers smells the first day you get it? This hair shine has captured that smell, while giving hair the look of glass. It works very well when mixed in with other products. You may want to warn those around you to wear sun glasses for all the shine coming off your hair.

M.A.C.:Blush brush 116
Good make-up is 1 part products and 2 parts tools. Even if you’re buying the crappiest of drug store make-up, it can look good and last if applied using quality brushes. I splurged a couple months back and started re-investing in brushes. This brush by MAC is natural hair and works like a wonder. Like painting on a canvas, you’re only as good as your best brush.

Smith’s Rosebud Salve
While Beltzner thinks that “Rosebud Salve” is intended for areas of the body I do not discuss on this blog (he has a knack for taking innocent things and twisting them with his perverted little mind), this is actually the best lip blam (;-)) I’ve ever known. You’re more than welcome to use it on your ass, just don’t tell me about, k?

Phyto 7 Plant-Based Treatment Cream - Dry Hair
This has become one of my “trapped on a desert island and I was smart enough to pack” items. I use it as a leave in conditioner or I use it to bring life to day-old hair. Every time I use I continue to believe that it is, in fact, a miracle cream. I can’t say enough good things about this hair care line.

Donna Karan: Black Cashmere & Cashmere Mist perfumes
(flash site)
M bought me Cashmere Mist for my birthday and with it gave me a sample of Black Cashmere. Both scents are spicy and modern. Mist evokes a kind of sweet freshness and resolves to an 21st Century version of my beloved Chanel No. 5. Black Cashmere is like someone tapped by sexuality and put it in a bottle. Bless that Donna Karan.

HRH

One handed

This blog entry is being entered with one hand...my left hand. Why would I do domething so frustrating and time consuming? Because my right hand is freezing. The rest of my body is a-okay. My right hand, cold like a Nanvut midnight. I'm trying to put it under a lamp and alternatively sitting on it to warm it up. I'm sightly troubled by this as I usually feel coldness in my extremities in a parallel fashion. As in, if I'm cold, then both of my hands are like ice. This one sided freeze has me concerned.

So I typed "Cold Hand Symptom" into google to see what was wrong with me. You know, because the Internet is where you can get an accurate diagnosis for pending physical tragedies. According to "Wrong Diagnosis.com" I have either Buerger's disease, which is inflammation of small blood vessels in the legs that can lead to leg blood clots, blocked leg arteries, finger ulcers, toe ulcers and gangrene. Or I might have Meningococcal disease which is a dangerous bacterial infection causing meningitis or bacteremia. Keen.

Perhaps I should turn the heat up in my office.

Today's sing-a-long song: "Cold Outside" by Tom Jones and Cerys Matthews

HRH