Sour and Sweet

I think I need an attitude adjustment. Like having a dial or limitor installed that either allows me to modify the extremes of my moods or just doesn't let them bounce back and forth so much. Sometimes I'm very happy and smiley and then mere moments later I'm ready to tear someone limb from limb. Oh and everything, and by everything I mean everything, is irritating me. And I'm certain that about 2% of the irritation is actually warranted. Which leaves me with an abstract 98% of seething hate I have no idea what to do with.

And no, it's not PMS.

Though one thing that gives me joy and reprive from the grumpies is this:

Monday April 19, 2004
MUSE
MOD CLUB THEATRE

One of my favourite bands is coming to town. Life is starting to get back it's sweetness potential.

Today's sing-a-long song: "Space Dementia" by Muse

HRH

Driving Around in my Automobile

Ah new car smell. How sweet it is. Dare I say it's as sweet as eating a second cupcake because it's the only one left on the plate and we all know that you can't leave a cupcake on the plate by itself. That's just mean. Anyway, the 3 has arrived. I was chauffeured to and from work yesterday by a very sick M who put his illness aside long enough for me to breathe deeply in that "yes you are the first owner of this vehicle and you look so hot in it" aroma. Driving it was a special joy as well, though I couldn't put it through much of a test in rush hour traffic. Still I was in it, with its many flashing lights, cup holders and moisture-sensing windshield wipers. Hmmm, technology.

In other news, I'm starting to feel the effects of the 3 or 4 times weekly swims. I'm still a long way from being a Victoria's Secret lingerie model, but I feel better and things, well, feel firmer. Which is good. I'm finding a great deal of amusement from my arms and shoulders which are starting to feel like they did in the basketball days. There's still flab to be lost, but most importantly I can feel the muscle forming beneath. The whole sleeping better and cardiovascular health thing is cool too. Swimming and aquafit have been ideal for me. What I hated about exercising was getting overheated and sweating. Total non-issues in the pool, plus (the big kicker) no pain. There's the "holy shit my muscles are going to ache forever" pain that comes from working out, but what I'm finding happily absent is the joint grinding, crippling pain that had me limping around town for most of the winter. That's right sucker, you can't mess with me in the water.

Finally the coolest thing of all is that I can easily swim from one end of the pool to the other without coming up for air. Next step: Gills!

Today's sing-a-long song: "New" by No Doubt

HRH

Like Riding a Bike With Your Tongue

It's been 9 months since I left the Czech Republic. Can you believe that. Dude. Anyway, it's been about as long since I've had to actually speak Czech. I was never the master that Vendulka was at attaining any kind of fluency. I was okay, but not fantastic. Being back in Canada has had two effects on my Czech. 1st, French is starting to reassert it's dominance in the 2nd language position and 2nd, with the return of my Ottawa valley accent (the most closed-mouthed accent in the world) I've basically stopped using my lips to talk. When I was teaching, I could annunciate like it was going out of style, but these days... let's just say my diction muscles are a little flabby.

Today will be the first time in Canada that I will be speaking Czech in a professional capacity. There's a family here from Prague, and a TV crew from Nova doing a story on a Czech child that has to have an operation because he can't smile. It's not just a sunny Czech disposition stopping him, he actually physically can't smile. So where else in the world would you come if you needed to get the ability to smile than Canada. There will be an interpreter there, so it's not like the entire thing rests on my shoulders, however the prospect of conversing in Czech again has raised my heartrate just a tad. Regardless I will put my best foot forward and imaging Wendy cheering me on in my head. Watch, all I end up having to say is Dobry den.

The neat thing about all of this is that I spent some time last night reviewing some pronounciation with M and we ended up doing a little reminiscing about Prague. Sometimes I miss it, I really do. But it's more a feeling of nostalgia than one of longing. What I miss in the way that I feel bad without it is my ability to get my toungue around some of these Czech words... sigh.

Today's sing-a-long song: "Shake the Disease" by Depeche Mode

HRH

On A Road To Nowhere

I'm looking for a new political party. As I said I would I am leaving the Conservative Party of Canada and looking for greener pastures. I can't, in good conscience, support a party with a leader that is pro-life, against same-sex marriage and cowtows to the church. That is not part of my political agenda. Several people have suggested that I write the party a letter and let them know that as a young person and the possible future of their party, a leader has been elected that is so divisive that I can't be a part of it any longer. And I may just do that.

Not like they'll care, since it's just one vote, but in some ways I feel compelled to say something. And it wasn't as though I thought the other options were wonderful. A woman who'd never been centre stage in politics before (granted I liked her because she wasn't part of the old crew) and the guy who'd bent the Ontario Health Care system over the couch for the last few years. Not totally inspiring, but importantly, moderate. I guess that there's no room for moderation on the right. And no, the solution is not voting for the Liberals. While it seems that my politics are more in line with those of Paul Martin than Stephen Harper, having everyone vote for the Liberals just isn't good for Democracy. And I just can't bring myself to do it. I'm afraid I would melt on the spot.

Anyway, my disenfranchisement is complete, so I'm google-ing for a new party. Suggestions anyone?

HRH

What Not To Wear

In a mere 6 hours M and I will make our way east. Our first stop will be near Oshawa, where we will exchange the beloved Acura for a Big Stack o' Money(TM). I'm a rather sentimental person so as I was driving the car to work for the first and last time today I reflected on all the places I'd gone in the green-machine. I've only come to know it's passenger seat (and not as often the driver's seat) for 5 of it's 12 good years. In that time it as comfortably taken me from Kingston to Toronto, from Prague to Munich (on the Autobahn no less!) and from our old apartment in Prague 1 to the softball fields at Krc time and time again, sometimes at a speed much faster than allowed by the law. Yes we are getting a shiny black car next Wednesday, and it was the right decision, but it's still a little hard to say good-bye. Yes, this is the reason why I have box after box of stuffed animals in my house. I can't talk about that much more or I'll be compelled to take them all our of their respective boxes or off their respective shelves and put them on or beside my bed. Oh the crippling guilt.

After making the exchange, we will continue east in a borrowed car to Kingston, where we will spend a little bit of time with my dear Parents, I will pick up my new swimming goggles and cap and M and I will be fitted for our brand-new-hopefully-theft-resistant bicycles. Super-keen.

Saturday mid-day we will go North-East to meet up with a gaggle of friends and take in my first NHL hockey game. True, the Leafs aren't playing in this game, but the Ottawa Senators are still an Ontario team (so yay!), and watching hockey is fun, period. It should be an interesting dynamic as some of our group are tried and true Toronto fans and others are pretty passionate Sens fans. It would be worse if it were a Sens/Leafs game, but since Saturday's opponent will be Carolina we can unite against them. I hope at some point in the night to be able to use the slur "Tobacco lovin' Hillbilly." One thing I'm actually quite excited about, aside from sitting so close I can hear the foul-mouthed cussing and having people bring arena food to me at my seat, is the fact that M won't be able to change the channel during the National Anthem. I quite like the Canadian National Anthem and this is live hockey, with no remote control, so I should be able to enjoy it at last.

With the playoffs pending there's been some silliness going on between Ottawa and Toronto, namely the banning of Leafs Jersey's in the Corel centre.

Ottawa Bans Toronto Maple Leaf Jerseys From Game
Thursday, March 18, 2004 9:13:48 AM EST

OTTAWA (Reuters) - Sorry, the blue-and-white Toronto Maple Leafs jerseys are not welcome in Ottawa.

Reflecting one of the greatest sporting rivalries anywhere, the Ottawa City Council passed a resolution on Wednesday banning the jerseys from the Ottawa Senators' final ice hockey game of the season, against the Leafs, on April 3.

Mayor Bob Chiarelli explains that it is intimidating to Ottawa players and fans to see 7,000 to 9,000 Toronto jerseys in the stands at an Ottawa home game.

"We're going to intimidate them back," Chiarelli told CBC radio.

He recognizes that the tongue-in-cheek resolution has no teeth -- offending Toronto fans will only be "requested" to make a donation to the Ottawa Food Bank on leaving the Corel Centre -- but council wanted to make a point.

Leafs fans come up by the busload from Toronto, some 250 miles (400 kms) away, and others are Ottawa area residents who were fans of Toronto long before the Senators were resurrected early in the 1990s.
Chiarelli and the council may also have been trying to deflect attention from the city's most bitter local political row in years, over hiking property taxes.

I've opted to forgo all this rivalry stuff and wear a very cute shirt I purchased just yesterday. It's a pink and white "Hello Kitty" shirt that simply states "Your Team Sucks."

Today's sing-a-long song: "The Hockey Song" by Stompin' Tom Connors

HRH

Roll on, roll on

I was going to wait for M to post it, but he's been a busy guy. As many of you out in blog world know by now we have sold the Acura to a nice man from outside of the city.



The sale went down on Saturday night in an IKEA parking lot. Really, it wasn't as shady as it sounds. While M and I were total newbies at this game, I think we made a good choice and are sending the car that has been across the ocean with us to a good home, where it will be loved and turbo charged. We hand over the car and keys on Friday night and in the interim have ordered the Mazda 3 Sport GT... in Black. YAY! I won.



So hopefully in less than a week we'll be enjoying that new car smell and I'll be hoping that M is the first one to scratch it, as I am in no way prepared to deal with that kind of wrath.

Today's sing-a-long song: "Drive my car" by The Beatles.

HRH

Change in Plans

You may all recall a time, a couple months back, where I boldly stated that I was now okay with the notion of procreation. More specifically I was okay with pregnancy and motherhood. Heck I was even keen. A couple of years from now, getting preggers, surviving labour and having the most stylish baby ever, it was all good. And then today I learned something that has sent the entire plan into chaos.

Apparently you can't eat Sushi while pregnant.

I repeat. You can't eat Sushi when you're pregnant. Fuck that. I live on the stuff. I can give up drinking, since I don't do much of it. I can switch to decaf Chai Lattes (bless Starbucks for making them). I can do that. But give up raw fish? I'm so picky it's a wonder I don't loose weight just by cutting down my options. Honestly, there are like 15 things that I like to eat.

M seems to think that I might develop some kind of natural aversion to all things seafood, kind of like his stepmother did, but I doubt it. It's entirely possible that it could happen, but what if it doesn't. I could handle being Sushi-less in Prague because it was neither affordable or very good. But here in Toronto where there's a sushi sand not 2 minutes walk from my desk, it would just be too cruel. Alas I'm going to have to leave the breeding to the others. Those with a will stronger than mine and a less fussy appetite.

Today's sing-a-long song: "Never Gonna Give You Up" by Barry White.

HRH

Island in the Sun

Okay. That's it. Winter and I are done for the year. It came, I frolicked in the snow, I wrapped myself up in layer after layer of stylish winter accessorizing and I defeated the evil mastermind I like to call "dry winter skin." It's mid-March now and I've run out of tasks to amuse myself. Winter is no longer amusing. Do you hear me winter? That's right, it's time for you to pack up and take your show to the southern hemisphere. Work on something exciting for next winter. Maybe an even more awesome show of your destructive power or perhaps you could surprise us all with a season of moderation and pretty fluffy snowflakes. Whatever you decide to do, just go now. I'm sick of you. I'm sick of my winter clothes. Can't you hear all my cute spring/summer shoes crying out like children hungry for attention. Just listen to that and let it rest on your conscience.

GO AWAY ALREADY!

Today's sing-a-long sing: "Don't let the sun go down on me" by Elton John

HRH

And she wonders how she ever got here as she goes under again

I'd be lying if I didn't admit that I was thinking that if I went long enough without posting again, people would just keep posting really sweet things about me in the comments section, forever and ever, with no end. My head would be the size of P.E.I. for sure. Seriously though, thank you for the support everyone and "yay!" pretty bras! I'm getting to a point where I can read the wonderfully kind and generous things my friends have written about, listen to the enoucraging words of support, endure the smacks up side the head and react less with the "LIES! LIES! They tell you LIES ugly girl" and more with the "Maybe they have something here..." So thanks all. I am rich with great friends.

If you'd like to see the dress that pitched me into a downward spiral of irrational self loathing, have a look-see at Mike's blog (The dress is actually amazing and it's going to be so cute, it was actually the size that was catalyst, just to be clear). There you will see how Tash, Gail and I will be attired for the Robertson-Beltzner Joining Ceremony of Joy and you can see how grammar issues are a much hotter topic than our collective hotness potential. I figure if I don't eat until the wedding in August I may look something like the model wearing the dress I've chosen. With that in mind, manage your expectations. That's what I'm doing. I was talking to my mother about it all and she, like many other people were like "Didn't you know about the whole bridal sizing scam?" So much for being the girl in the know. :-)

Today's sing-a-long song: "Girls on Film" by Duran Duran

HRH

Mea Culpla

After Mike threatened to "kick my ass through my blog" (the logistics are intriguing, but maybe no?) and a very, very, very long lecture from my friend Krista, which lasted the better part of today, it has become clear to me that there are issues that need to be dealt with. So I'm going to deal. The unhealthy attitude has been identified, the lightbulb has lit up above my head and I can now see and hear all the digs I've taken at myself over the last 4 months. And dude, it's not cool. It stops now. Life is too short and I'm far too fabulous to be putting myself through this shit.

That said I would like to suggest that the clothing industry and the scammers that are involved in the bridal industry (let's jack up all our sizes so we can give people larger sizes than they are and use numbers so big that we'll seem justified in charging them extra for "plus" sizes. Jackals) change the way they label sizes. I had this idea today, when in the midst of telling me off for being retarded about my body image issues Krista said something that stuck in my head. "Sizes are meaningless. They're not consistent between stores and all that actually matters is how you look in it in the end." Which is very true and if I'd been using my brain at all I would have remembered that before Sunday's meltdown.

So I propose that we do away with the numbers system, but a series of labels that say something complimentary about the body type they're meant to fit. For example, someone who was a size 6 could be "Whether you're short and sweet, tall and lithe, you'll look so great in these pants, you'll catch everyone's eye." Or a size 12 "Work those curves girl. I said, work those curves girl. No one fills a top the way you do girl!" That way, if for some reason you have to tell your size to someone, you're actually forced to say something nice about yourself.

Another brilliant idea, I know.

Today's sing-a-long song: "Battleflag" by The Low Fidelity All-Stars

HRH

Yeah we tease him a lot cause we’ve hot him on the spot, Welcome back.

I promise I will never take you for granted again. I'm serious baby. I didn't mean to ignore you and I shouldn't have assumed that you'd always be there if I wasn't taking care of you. It's a give and take thing, and I see that now. I finally get it. I can't just strip you down to your barest essentials and assume that you'll take what ever crap I put you through. You deserve to be pampered. You deserve the best and from this day forward I will do everything in my power to protect you from harm.

So now I will be a good girl. Trims every 8 weeks, deep conditioning treatments at least twice a week if I'm swimming and no more drugstore brands. It's top shelf from here on in baby. And I will keep you away from chlorine as best I can. I will not eat for a day... for a week!... if it means keeping you away from the harsh elements with the best swimming cap money can buy. You're my hair. And you've always been so good to me. I was so thoughtless. You were totally within your boundaries to dry out and frizzle on me. I'm not sure what saddened me more, having to truly understand what a bad hair day is or knowing that this whole fiasco had been my own doing.

But you're back. And while it was a mere 8 days of torture, it felt like and eternity to me. Whatever you want, baby, you got it. Want a deep conditioning session with a shine sealant application after? It's yours. Just say the word. It is you that I hold above all others. I get that now.

Today's sing-a-long song: "Love would never do without you" by Janet Jackson

HRH

Now This is Where my Talents Lie

If they could somehow find a way to bottle my ability to procrastinate, they could fuel all of Africa, and I would be up for some sort of humanitarian prize. It's amazing how much effort you can put into not doing something. And I've really been doing some of my best work today. I even managed to organize all of my insecurities and frustrations into an excellent outburst of crying and self-loathing while watching "fashion Rocks: For The Prince's Trust."

There's a cycle I have when I'm facing a more-significant-than-usual deadline. I avoid, I clean, I do everything else I've been neglecting, I ignore, I try to corral M into sex, I have sex, I become stressed, I have an emotional meltdown, I pull myself back together, I write whatever it is I have to write, I have a 20 minute high and I pass out. Even though most of this process is totally unnecessary, it usually produces some of my best work.

We've just passed emotional meltdown and I'm doing some pulling back together. Which is proving to be more than a small challenge as I was measured for my bride's maid's dress yesterday. While I think it's going to be a wonderful dress, and it was a pretty positive shopping experience, the reality of what size they ordered me was depressing. But I will stick to my mantra that my "weight is not my worth" and "higher numbers are better than lower numbers." My philosophy will be that if I'm going to fill up a lot of space, then I might as well fill it beautifully and with style. And if anyone makes me feel like a fatty or look at me funny, I'll kick their ass like there's no fucking tomorrow.

Ahhh.

Time to write.

HRH

The Place Where You Live

I'm lazy, and instead of uploading photots to my webspace for hosting, photos that aren't going to generally go on my blog, but add colour to posts I make on the two message boards I call home, I just use the blogger upload function and save the post as a draft. Maybe I'm doing it the wrong way, but it works. This is generally how I make my way through unknown computing functions. If it works, good. And I'm not gonna question why.

Now the other day, a fellow message board nerd like myself created a thread about things that are good about the place where you live. I'm into visual aids so I supplied photographic evidence of how keen my 3 hometowns have been. So after a little bit of looking I found some great images of Kingston, Prague and Toronto. And rather than have them just sit on the server, or be a lonely rejected draft post I decided to put them to better use:

Kingston


Queen's University (in Kingston)




Prague


Toronto




Today's sing-a-long song: "The Place Where You Live" by Crowded House

HRH

Sometimes it’s just too easy to force choke someone and toss them off a precipice

Are these the dilemmas you have to deal with on a daily basis? I’m playing Jedi Academy for the fourth time in an effort to actually turn to the Dark Side for once. The three previous times I’ve done it I just couldn’t bring myself to use the dark force powers or give in to my hate. So this time I’ve made myself a male character in the hope that I’ll be able to behave sith-like. Guess I’m a little bit too much like GL in that I think women are just too nice to be evil. And I’m making a concerted effort to craft my Dark Side powers. And you know what? The dark side is easier, more seductive. Even playing on a more challenging level, it’s easier to smite my opponents with force lightening and force grip. Oh and using two sabers doesn’t hurt either. Whoosh. Whirr

Today’s sing-a-long song: “Use The Force” by Jamiroquai

HRH

I'm feelin' it

Phew. It's never a good sign when your weekend has worn you out. Or maybe it is. M and I are on this new plan, the plan being that we don't sit around our livingroom watching The Extreme sports channel or Law and Order re-runs. We're not doing anything so silly as forsaking our weekly viewings of Tony's Hawks gigantic Skate Park Tour, but we have resolved to leave the house more.

So, since the end of hibernation proclamation we have left the house 6 times for non-work or food shopping purposes. We've discovered our very cool neighborhood, procured a Rogers video rental membership, subsequently rented two DVDs (Tangent: Mark Hamill's Comic Book is a bit silly, but a pleasant enough DVD for an evening in), gone out for Mexican food, purchased 4 pairs of shoes and an unholy amount of haircare products to repair the damage done by a very chlorinated pool, and --get this-- gone out to a club. And you thought we were homebodies.

Aside from having a Gollum-like reaction ("It burns us precious!") to the smoke-filled bar, I had a pretty great time on Saturday. Julie took us to Andy Pool Hall for New Wave/Retro night, where I proceeded to throw caution to the wind and "give 'er" on the dance floor (when I told Julie that was my plan, she busted a gut laughing and affectionately told me "That is such a Kingston thing to say"). Turns out I can still shake it like a Polaroid picture, but at a price. I haven't truly let loose on the dance floor in years. Yes, I've been out dancing, but I've been really self-conscious and aware of myself. Maybe it wasn't something apparent on the outside, but I wasn't feeling it. Even back in the day the real "dancing" moments weren't as often as they should have been. But when they were, dude, it was a high like no other. So I went for it on Saturday. I didn't feel self conscious, I was dancing with Julie, who's always been one of my best dancing buddies and I was just a little drunk. I danced and it felt awesome. And then I woke up on Sunday and felt like I had the knees of an 80-year-old man again. Such is the priced to be paid for not following doctor's orders. But it was worth it.

I have to say that the "getting out of the house and off my ass" plan is working. Coupled with swimming at the pool 4-times a week, I'm starting to feel just the right amount of busy again. I hope that M and I will have our new bikes at the end of March, facilitating even more out-of-the-house activities.

Today's sing-a-long song: "Wanna be startin' somethin'" by Michael Jackson

HRH